


Exit Strategy

by Alkeni



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angel the Series Season 3-Centric, F/M, Gen, Lilah Morgan is Unapologeticaly Evil, Slow Burn for Weslah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkeni/pseuds/Alkeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Lindsey hadn't had his 'evil hand' moment at the revaluation? Without him leaving, he'd get the promotion, and Lilah...would be cut. Fortunately, Lilah Morgan has an Exit Strategy. One that Involves Angel Investigations, and a lot of stolen files.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step 1 - Blackmail

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Angel the Series. That's all Joss, WB, ME and whoever else.

I would like to thank Starway Man, my Beta.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 1: Step 1 - Blackmail 

**Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles  
11:15 am, April 27th, 2001**

When you work at Wolfram and Hart for long enough, you reach a point where almost nothing bothers you anymore, and even less will make you lose your composure. Sure, the law was a cut-throat field to work in, at even the best of times. But at Wolfram and Hart, that cliché, like so many others, was a literal warning. You kept your composure, because sometimes keeping that composure was the only thing between winning and losing. And at this firm, losing was, most of the time, a sure-fire recipe for death.

Unfortunately, right now, Lilah Morgan's composure was sitting on a knife-edge, and even that was provisional. A composed lawyer doesn't play with their hair.

_Of course, I'm not exactly composed right now._ Facing her potential death wasn't good for composure.

Lindsey, by contrast, was a cool and collected as anyone could be when facing his own potential death.  _Of course, he knows the score as well as I do._  Lilah knew that Lindsey wasn't better than her. Not even a little. But with his lucky break in the Lycor case, coming up with the offshore tin manufacturing company idea...his success was freshest in everyone's minds.  _Those stupid idiots aren't thinking about everything – they see a resolved case. That kind of work has **nothing**  to do with what Special Projects is designed to handle, and it's going to see him land the job of being vice-president of the division. God damn it!_ Lindsey wasn't the man for that job. He was still fired up about Angel, couldn't see the big picture when it came to the vampire. Never could, never would.

Lilah forced herself to lower her hand from her hair as Nathan Reed started to talk. “These re-evaluations are always something of a mixed blessing,” He smiled broadly as he looked around the table. “Sad, as we lose one of our own.” He looked at one side of the table. “But also hopeful, as we turn towards the future and promote one of our own.” He looked at the other side of the table. Lilah looked to Lindsey. This was it. The moment of truth, as it were. His new hand was twitching, and he seemed...deliberative...like he was deciding something. Lilah knew something of how Lindsey's mind worked.

“Lilah,” Nathan looked at her. The false paternalism in his expression, his voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guard – Allen? - place his hand over his weapon. “You've made a lot of great contributions, and I know you've tried your  _very_  best...”

Heart racing, a word of protest escaped her lips unbidden. “No!” Lilah grabbed at her purse, the guard drawing closer. Lindsey almost twitched,  _almost_  reached out to stop her, but then didn't; and Lilah pulled her purse open, just as the guard's gun cleared its holster. 

Oddly, Lilah held up her phone as she glared at Reed. “You tell Allen to back off, or all of you can kiss your asses goodbye!”

“Be reasonable, Lilah. There's no reason to make a scene.” Nathan said in that same soft, polite voice. “You've made a good effort, but unfortunately you just don't have what it takes make it at Wolfram and Hart. It's better for everyone this way.”

“I don't have what it takes?” Lilah laughed, her desperation making it seem almost hysterical. “ _You_  don't even have what it takes to hide those offshore bank accounts of yours, Nathan! I found them in less three hours of work.” Lilah held up the phone. “If I don't make the right call to the right person within the next two hours, that information goes straight to the Senior Partners. And you know how they feel about someone not giving the firm its cut. How much do you have squirreled away in the Caymans? Seven million, eight? Nine? That's a  _lot_  to be held accountable for. And the less I say about your accounts in Switzerland, the better for you.”

“Nathan, what's she talking about?” Ronald Jayhew looked from Nathan to Lilah then back again.

“Oh, don't give me that, Ronald!” Lilah countered, barking at him. “Not with your investment habits. Or is it just  _coincidence_  that you always sell your stock in our clients' companies just before they get hit with major fines, or get taken to court?” Lilah shot a glare at Lindsey, who just had a smirk on his face. “The fact of the matter is, if I don't stop it, in two hours the Senior Partners will have enough information so that each and every one of you will be put into some pretty nasty punishment dimensions, if just that.” As she spoke, she pointed to exactly who she meant – Nathan, Charlie, Ronald, Leon. The four members of the review board.

“Lilah, look, there's – there's no reason to be unreasonable. You should know by now that we can't give you the job. It's already been decided that Lindsey will get the promotion, the paperwork has already been submitted.” Ronald explained. “And you can't threaten us -”

“Oh, it's not a threat; it's a promise. Namely, if I go down, I'm taking the rest of you with me!” She nodded to Nathan. “Make a call to HR. I want my contract voided immediately. That  _includes_  the perpetuity clause. If you don't want me working for the firm, then fine; I'm done with Wolfram & Hart.”

“Lilah, you know I can't-”

“Yes, you can.” She brandished the phone, raising her voice once more. “You can either do what I say, or you can talk about your indiscretions with the Senior Partners. Those are your choices, Nathan, deal with it. I get freedom from any obligation to the firm, and I walk out of here alive, and all four of you get to keep your lives and your careers. Or else I'll see you _all_ in hell!”

“The firm won't let you get away with this, Lilah.” Reed said, trying to sound reasonable. “You know that. You  _have_  to know that! Wolfram & Hart won't let this stand.”

“Wolfram & Hart? The only thing that matters about Wolfram & Hart is its Senior Partners, and you can't threaten me with them anymore. So like it or not, you'll _have_  to let it stand, Nathan. And even if you can't, I haven't come to this meeting with just half a plan. Now stop stalling, and make the damn call to HR! Or else you get exposed to everyone, right here, right  ** _now!_** ”

Nathan brought out a cell phone and started to dial. Lindsey leaned back in his chair, turning it so he could look at her directly, fingers steepled. “Lilah, like the man said - you have to know that you can't run from the firm and live. As the new deputy head of Special Projects, we both know Nathan is going to order  _me_  to come after you...”

“Give it your best shot, Lindsey. And what the hell, the day you do catch me is the day that I deserve to be caught and killed. You couldn't beat me at this game under any circumstances!”

Lindsey spread his hands wide. “I got the job instead of you, didn't I?”

“Lucky break.” Lilah sneered.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.” Lindsey's smirk was still sitting there on his smug face.

“Give me your gun, Allen.” Lilah abruptly turned around and ordered the guard. Allen started to obey – lawyers beat security guards in the firm's food chain, the reflex was automatic – but then stopped, as he suddenly remembered the situation. That moment though, was all Lilah needed. No great pugilist by any stretch of the imagination, Lilah could nonetheless handle herself against this rent-a-cop executioner any day of the week. Her foot impacted directly between his legs and the gun was in her hand, before he was even on the ground. “Ouch. That's going to hurt in the morning.”

Nathan lowered his phone. “Really, Lilah-”

“Shut up!” Lilah barked at him. “My contract?”

“I've made the call, and the wheels are in motion. In just a few minutes, the Senior Partners will approve its dissolution on my recommendation. Really, there's no need for this-”

“Oh, of course there is, you impotent ass. I  _work_  here! I know all of you. I trust you as far as I could throw Lindsey, and I trust Lindsey even less than that!” Lilah leveled a glare at Nathan.

“Hey!” Lilah ignored Lindsey's indignant protest.

“You've made the call, but since I don't trust you, I want  _proof_  before I walk out of this room. Have Files & Records send my original contract up, complete with its void page addition.” Nathan didn't do anything. She brandished the gun, pointing it at his head. “ **Now!** ” Nathan still did nothing.

“If my opinion counts for anything, you should either pull the fucking trigger or stop posturing.” Lindsey cut in. “It's not like the world won't be a less slimy one without him.”

“Lindsey, watch your words.” Nathan reproached.

“Why should I?” Lindsey spread his hands again. “I don't like you any more than Lilah does, I'm just less desperate and homicidal about it. And everyone in this room has witnessed just how easily you gave in to her attempt at blackmail! Still, I have an appointment with a client in half an hour, and since I'm the new vice-president of Special Projects, being punctual seems like a good way to start the job. Give her the voided contract, Nathan. May as well get this over with; she's got you bent over a barrel, and you know it.”

Nathan's neck ticked, his head moving left for just a moment. Immediately, Lilah started to dial her phone. “I don't have to wait the full two hours, you know. I can send those files to the Senior Partners right now, if you'd like!”

Nathan's phone flew open faster than was absolutely necessary, the top slapping onto the table with a soft thud. Human Resources was dialed again. “Have Files & Records send the original of Miss Morgan's contract up to the West Conference room on the 9th floor. Now.  _With_  proof that it's been declared null and void.” He closed his phone. “Five minutes.”

“Good.” Lilah, who had had her thumb hovering over the 'call' button, pulled it away, lowering the phone. She kept the gun ready, but turned to Leon. “Give me your lighter.” Leon didn't protest, taking it out of his jacket and sliding across the conference table. “If the contract really is voided, then it'll burn...and you'll all be witness to it.”

The next five minutes passed in tense silence, Lilah still standing, still holding the phone and the gun, everyone else sitting. Well, Allen wasn't sitting – Lilah had made clear he was supposed to stay down. Only Lindsey wasn't nervous – Lilah's composure was completely shot, and it was showing.

The door opened and the interoffice courier entered – one look at the room and he dropped the contract on the table and ran out the door, a squeak of shoes his only noise. Lilah beckoned to Ronald, who pushed it across the table at her. Lilah looked it over with care, checking her signature, and the paper. It was the original, she knew the smell of her own blood anywhere.

“Good. It wouldn't have ended well for you, any of you, if Nathan had tried to pull something funny.” Lilah clicked the lighter on, the flames touching the contract's corner. As fire spread over it, the table caught too. Nathan watched, his face growing redder and redder as his peers and underling bore witness to something utterly  _unprecedented_  at this branch of the firm.

Lilah tossed the lighter back to Leon, and picked up her phone again. It took only seconds for the fire to turn the paper to ash and burnt char. Hard as it was to believe...her contingency plan had worked. She was _free_.

“Allen, you can get up now and put this out with the fire extinguisher.” Lilah backed towards the door. “Once I'm safely out of this building and away, I'll make the call. I have no reason not to, anymore. Your dirty little secrets will be safe from the Senior Partners...for now. But if anyone gets in my way before I get out...well, then, there's no call...and we'll all see each other in hell.”

Not waiting for any responses, Lilah left the conference room. There was nothing she needed from her office, hell there was nothing she needed in the entire building. Lingering wouldn't be safe, anyway.

Lindsey looked around at everyone else after Lilah had left. “Well, that went well, didn't it?” The lawyer stood up. “Gentlemen, I have a client to meet with, and unless I'm very much mistaken? You four have some work to do.” Out the door he went.

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles  
5:31 pm, April 27th, 2001**

The lobby of the Hyperion Hotel was fairly normal for a Friday evening. Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia were sitting at the desk, eating takeout Chinese food, Angel was sitting in a chair and reading  _War and Peace_  for the fifth time. The three eating were talking about small things – movies, music, whatever. Casual chat, friendly talk. Wesley, as usual, was trying to eat, talk and read a book in some arcane demonic language.

“You know, you  _could_  just go back to your office and work on that while you eat, if you find it more interesting.” Cordelia said dryly, then popped a piece of orange chicken into her mouth.

Wesley looked up from the book. “Sorry.” He set his food down and closed the book, pushing it aside. “There's a few Arhkashzian-script scrolls I'd like to translate before the day is done. This,” He gestured to the closed book. “This is a guide to translating the various languages that use that script. I'm only familiar with a few of them, unfortunately.”

“Wes, anything actually important in those scrolls, or is you just tryin' to work yourself to death?” Gunn asked.

“Well, I won't know until I've translated them, but most likely no. From what I can gather, these scrolls are a set of ethnographies into various demon clans. And I believe that most of those clans are either extinct, or from rather distant dimensions.” He looked at Gunn and Cordelia. “Oh, don't look at me like that. You read comic books,” He nodded to Gunn, “and you like to shop for clothes. I happen to like translating obscure demonic languages. It's a good challenge.”

“Well, I suppose the world needs all kinds.” Angel set his book down.

“Angel, you've read  _War and Peace_. More than once. In the original Russian. Don't act like your hobby is any less strange than mine.”

“Hey,  _War and Peace_  is a timeless-” He cut himself off and laughed a little. “Oh no, we're not having this argument again. You want to start arguing that  _Crime and Punishment_  is better.” He turned and headed to the fridge, grabbing a mug for his blood, still talking as he walked. “I'm not having this conversation again.” He repeated.

“ _Crime and Punishment_   **is**  better.” Wesley countered. “The moral conflict-”

“Save the Russian literature talk for when I'm  _not_  in the room.” Gunn protested, picking up his food again. “It's putting off my appetite.”

“Speaking of appetites, I've just lost mine.” Cordelia sighed. “I had a nasty thought.” She dropped her half-eaten food into the trash.

“Well, don't share it.” Gunn countered. It was no use.

“Too late. What is Wolfram and Hart gonna do for organs, now that you and Lindsey took their 'donor bank' out? No more new body parts for their employees?” Gunn rolled his eyes and put his own meal down.

In answer to her question, both Wesley and Angel shook their heads. “For now.” Angel noted. “But they'll get to work on creating a new one, sooner or later. And probably try and 'correct' the problems that led to Lindsey and I finding this one. Make sure amputated hands don't go around writing 'kill, kill, kill' and all that.”

“The problem with this thing is that it existed at all.” Gunn half-muttered. “Just when you thought Wolfram and Hart couldn't go any lower.”

“Oh, I'm sure we haven't even  _begun_  to plumb the depths of Wolfram and Hart's depravities.” Wesley picked up the tome and opened it again. “Of course, there's a bigger issue to address: The question of Lindsey.”

“He's not going to quit Wolfram and Hart, obviously.” Cordelia scoffed. “He's been there and done that. He had his chance to be a good guy. He traded it for a six figure salary and a full benefits package.”

“And a corner office.” Angel added.

“Strictly speaking, redemption is never impossible.” Wesley countered, looking up from the book. “But yes, I too suspect that Lindsey won't be fundamentally changed by this experience, despite what he and Angel went through together.”

Angel shrugged. “I don't know.” He took his mug out of the microwave. “There's something about the way he was, last night. It's possible. Slim, yeah, but not impossible. At least enough for him to leave Wolfram and Hart. He was genuinely disgusted with the whole thing.”

“Hello? Are we talking about the same guitar-playing evil nemesis? Not a chance.” Cordelia disagreed. “Besides, it would only last as long as it was convenient to him for it to last. I wouldn't trust him to change in the least. Hell, if Lindsey really did quit Wolfram and Hart, and walked in through the front door saying he'd seen the light and needed our help to escape from L.A., I'd be the first in line to feed him back to the Senior Partners. Let him give  _them_  indigestion!”

“Well,” An all too familiar female voice said from the front doors. “I suppose it's a good thing that I'm not Lindsey, now, isn't it?”


	2. Step 2 - Bribery

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Angel the Series. All rights reserved to Joss, et al.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 2: Step 2 – Bribery

**Wolfram and Hart, Los Angeles  
4:01 pm, April 27th, 2007**

Lindsey looked up from his computer, upon hearing the knock on the door of his brand-new corner office. It was a nervous, unsteady knock. Rolling his eyes, he told whoever it was to come in. As soon as he did so, Lindsey recognized the man – Walter Lendel, one of the people from the company's IT division.

“Uhm...I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there appears to be a...well, that is to say...we're being hacked, sir.” The man had a file folder in his hand, and held it out to Lindsey.

Lindsey gestured to the man to come closer. “Hacked? As in, right now?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you're telling me, why?” Lindsey could think of half a dozen people whose attention this should have been brought to, apart from himself.

“Because the program was authorized using Holland Manners' identification key.” Walter said nervously. “It's a Special Projects issue.”

_Ah. Well, that explains that._  But then Lindsey considered the almost-trembling computer geek more carefully. “Holland's dead. And yet, you kept his ID code on active status?”

“It was an executive order from the CEO, sir, since Mr. Manners' perpetuity clause has him attached to the Los Angeles office. But the man's soul is on active service outside of this dimension. Has been, since his death. And while the connection is outside access...it's definitely from this dimension.” 

_Well, duh. Not like there's a lot of extra-dimensional demons who would hack into our computer server. Then again...okay, that's something to raise at the next departmental meeting, since if I could think of it; no doubt eventually someone else will, too._  Lindsey took the file from the man and opened it. “Start from the top.”

“At 3:27 pm, an outside terminal – we're still trying to find out where – entered Mr. Manners' key-code and activated a hidden subroutine in the archiving system. Hundreds of files are being copied and sent to a remote outside terminal. We're trying, but we can't stop it!”

“What kind of files?”

“Safe-houses, shell corporations, account numbers, case files, client information - basically, the works.” Walter shifted around, palms sweaty. He knew that as one of the branch's division heads, a lot of the mud from this cluster-fuck would stick to him. “If this information got out...the firm could lose billions, and...” He paused a moment, biting his lip. “It could give every federal law enforcement agency in the country enough ammunition to come down on Wolfram & Hart like a ton of bricks. Not to mention a lot of state and local ones...”

“Even the IRS?” Lindsey raised an eyebrow, as he flipped over one of the pages in the folder.

“ _Especially_  the IRS, sir.”

“I suppose you've already tried to lock out the program?”

“Yes sir. No luck. It resists every tactic we've tried, like whoever designed the damned thing  _knew_  that we would try that sort of counter-measure. And it's been in the system for over a year, so a system reset isn't going to get rid of it either. Ah...I suspect I know why it's resisting our efforts so well, and why we never noticed it before.” Walter rubbed his hands on his blue button-up shirt as he spoke.

“And why would that be?” Lindsey played with his pen, as he looked over at the IT man curiously.

“Because the person who designed it...I'm pretty sure it was David Cowan. I worked with him long enough to recognize his electronic fingerprints. He was one of our cybersecurity people, until about a year ago.”

Lindsey leaned forward. “And where is Mr. Cowan now?”

“It's hard to say. His employment with this branch of the firm was terminated. During his last performance evaluation, he was deemed untrustworthy and unreliable, and subsequently fired. No...no, I'm sorry, I misremembered - actually, he was  _set on_  fire. But if you look at the final evaluation...Lilah Morgan oversaw the whole process.” Walter gestured to the folder. Lindsey turned to another page and saw Lilah's telltale signature at the bottom of a termination approval sheet. Involuntarily, he whistled.

“I have to give her credit. A good plan.”

“You've been ordered to find Lilah and eliminate the threat she poses with this information.” Walter said, as if waiting to be attacked. “You...you'll see the signed order on the next page...”

“Try not to live down to my every expectation, will you? If Lilah dies, all this goes public in a heartbeat! She'll have made sure of that much...no. It's not that simple. She's been working on her exit strategy for years probably, just in case. And I've got to hand it to her, this has style. We can't do anything to her yet. At least not directly.” 

_Think. Think. You know Lilah as well as she knows you. What would she do? Where would she go?_  Lindsey put the folder down, honestly stumped. “I have to admit, I have no clue where she's hiding out, since her apartment hasn't been visited since she left the building, and none of her known personal safe-houses have been touched. I don't suppose  ** _you_**  happen to know where she is right now?”

“Uh, no sir.” Walter said nervously.

_Typical._  Lindsey purposefully forced himself to stop thinking like a lawyer, and more like a cop. Or even a private detective. All right. _What would Angel do in this situation? I mean, he's infiltrated the firm before, without setting off every alarm in the building. And how did he do that? Using the firm's human element. Using an insider, like he did with **me**  way back when. So what's Lilah's human element? Her Achilles heel? Oh,  **yes** , of course..._

Lindsey smirked, staring at Lendel. “Did you know how the Soviet spy network managed to keep up with the Western agencies for all those decades, despite being completely outclassed in terms of technology?  _People_ , Walter. It all comes down to who you know, not what you know. And fortunately, Lilah didn't hide everything perfectly...” 

He entered some keys into his computer. “We can't get Lilah to turn herself in, and we can't kill her. She'll have prepared to unleash those files, before we could stop it by simply terminating her. But what we can do is play a trump card of our own...” 

The formerly one handed lawyer picked up his office phone and dialed, one handed, then held the receiver up to his face. “Hauser? It's McDonald, Special Projects. Send a retrieval team to Covenant Providence Nursing Home, in San Fransisco. There's a certain invalid woman there, in Room 312. Transfer her to Fairfield Clinic's nursing home. Make sure she remains completely unharmed, and taken care of to the best of the clinic's ability. But maintain armed guards outside of the clinic and whatever room they put her in, until further notice.” Lindsey started to hang up the phone, then he brought it back up. “And make damn sure, no bodies to be buried later during the retrieval op. Or else you're the one who'll be held responsible for the mess. I want this one done quick, clean and quiet.” He dropped the phone back onto its cradle.

_Two can play at this game Lilah. And I can't **wait**  to see the expression on your face, once you learn that I've gotten my hands on your mother..._

**Apartment Complex, East Los Angeles  
4:09 pm, April 27th, 2001**

Pulling the last floppy disk from the computer, Lilah pulled the plug on the machine. Now it was time to cover her tracks, completely. There was still a chance they could trace the program – though not actually shutting it down should leave them chasing their tails, at least for a few more hours. With nowhere to receive the files, they'd bounce and end up all over the Wolfram and Hart mainframe.

But precautions always needed extra layers, and Lilah had those in spades. An axe made short work of the computer – modem, wires, hard drive, hardware, casing, everything. The IT geeks would have no idea when she'd stopped receiving the files, assuming Cowan had done his job right.

_I've banked a lot on that part of the plan. Sure, they'll have found out what's going on by now. But everything is too buried. They won't find Cowan's fingerprints or mine, until it's too late._

Ever since she'd started work at Wolfram and Hart – well, the  _real_  Wolfram and Hart, rather than the one all the new initiates had to start in, which was the facade for public show – Lilah had been planning her exit strategy. Digging up dirt on the higher-ups had been an ongoing process, but that wasn't a major problem or obstacle. The real trick had been getting out of Los Angeles alive, and making it to safety. Every strategy she'd come up with had relied on unsure things, only possibilities, not certainties.

Lilah Morgan didn't do uncertainties. The arrival of Angel Investigations on the scene gave her exactly what she needed. If there was anyone who could get her out of the city under the firm's nose, it was happy-joy-joy crew on the other-side. All good guys and puppies.

_And now, I have something they want._

**Angel Investigations, Los Angeles  
5:39 pm, April 27th, 2001**

Lilah looked at the four do-gooders, setting her bag and her briefcase down. “What? No hello? No 'get outs'? Not even a token death threat, for old time's sake?”

Wesley was the first to react to her appearance. In one fluid motion his to-go carton was on the desk, and a pistol was out from under it, leveled at Lilah. With his free hand, the former Watcher gestured for Gunn and Cordelia to get out of the way, and they did so, a clear angle of fire forming.

Lilah rolled her eyes and put her hands in the air, at the level of her head. “And to think,” she quipped. “Six hours ago,  _I_  was the one on the other end of the gun.”

Wesley ignored her. “Angel, check her for weapons.” The vampire approached her. “Arms outstretched to the side, Lilah.” 

The female lawyer complied, looking at Angel with a smirk. “I bet you've just been  _waiting_  for a chance to do this, right tiger?” 

Ignoring the innuendo, Angel checked her, moving efficiently down from her arms to her waist to her legs, taking a gun out of her pantsuit jacket. With ease, Angel pulled the clip and tossed both parts of the gun onto the floor. “She's clean.”

“Ah, really? To think, you didn't even check my crotch to see if I've gotten anything hidden under there. Some Champion  ** _you_**  are. ” Lilah smirked, turning her attention to the boss of the outfit. “Still, satisfied? Really, Wesley, if I wanted you and everyone else here dead, I'd be a little bit more sophisticated than walking in with a gun. Give me some credit.”

“You work for Evil Incorporated, Lawyer-bitch.” Gunn retorted. “Don't think you qualify for gettin'  ** _any_**  credit. What do you want?”

“Well, you heard what I said in response to Cordelia's comment. It's a good thing I'm not Lindsey. Oh, can I lower my hands now?” Wesley didn't lower his weapon, but nodded assent, and Lilah dropped her arms. “Good. That was starting to get uncomfortable. And I need to get my comforts where I can, before finally ditching this damned city.”

“What? You seriously expect us to believe that you've seen the light, and you want our help to escape L.A?” Cordelia scoffed. “Do we  ** _look_**  like we ate our stupid flakes this morning?”

“Oh, please, Little Miss I-Got-Cursed-With-Killer-Headache-Visions. Do you  ** _really_**  want me to answer that question?” Lilah laughed at the infuriated look on Cordelia's face. “Anyway, seen the light? No. Need your help to escape Los Angeles? Yes.”

“If you haven't decided to leave Wolfram and Hart-” Wesley started to say.

“Oh, please, I've left Wolfram and Hart.” Lilah interrupted. “The firm decided they no longer needed my services, as of roughly eleven o'clock this morning. We've since parted ways.”

“People don't just leave Wolfram and Hart after they've been fired, Lilah. What's your angle?” Wes asked curiously.

“My angle is that I want to stay alive, Wyndam-Pryce. Lindsey was the one who got the promotion to Vice President of Special Projects, and I was slated to be sacked. Literally.”

“And how did you wriggle out of that?” Angel demanded.

“Easy, you undead moron! I had enough dirt on everyone else in that room for them to let me out walk out of the building alive and unharmed,  ** _afte_**  my contract with the Senior Partners was terminated and set on fire. By now, they'll have formally ordered Lindsey to track me down and kill me as his first big assignment in the new job. I'd like to be out of Lose Angeles, by the time he decides he has no choice but to get moving on that.”

“I vote we sending him a fancy greeting card and tell him she's here.” Cordelia supplied after a moment, raising her hand. “Who's with me?”

“This isn't a democracy, Cordelia.” Wesley replied. “Besides, we can hardly hand Lilah over to be murdered in cold blood, regardless of how much we don't like her. But I don't see why we have to help her, either.” Wes paused, looking at the brunette attorney carefully. “Still, you'd know that, so you'd have come here with something to trade for our help.” He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Better if I show you.” She picked up the briefcase and fiddled with the dials on the lock, opening it after a moment's work. The four members of Angel Investigations caught a glimpse of stacks of hundred-dollar bills, crisp, fresh and carefully ordered. Cordelia's vision went a little green for just a moment. _Shopping spree!_  went through her head, an involuntary reflex. Well, she had been the richest girl in Sunnydale once upon a time, so that was hardly surprising.

But the money wasn't the only thing in there. There was also a pile of floppy disks. Lilah took one out and closed the briefcase. “Files from the local branch of Wolfram and Hart. Safe-houses, account numbers, case files, client information – the workups on each and every one of you, and even your blonde Slayer's gang up in Sunnydale. Well, half of all that information, anyway. All of the files are incomplete, just in case. Once I'm out of Los Angeles, the other half of the files are yours.”

“And what are you planning to do with all that money?” Cordelia asked, raising her eyebrow. “Use it to fund your new life?”

“Girl's got to have something to survive on, when they're on the run from a pan-dimensional law firm with a global reach.”

“The offer is tempting, Lilah.” Wesley started to say. “But-”

“We don't trust you.” Angel finished, interrupting Wesley. He simply couldn't help it. “Who knows what's really on those files? That information could be completely useless, or even worse, some sort of entrapment.”

“Useless? Entrapment? Oh, puh-lease. That information in the right hands would see over half of Wolfram and Hart's staff in prison for a list of crimes bigger than your  _ **ego**_ , Angel! Bigger than your brood, even.”

Cordelia laughed at that, she simply couldn't help it. Lilah may have been an evil bitch, but at least the female attorney didn't flinch at calling them like she saw them. “Nothing's bigger than his brood, Lilah. He's been working on it for a century.” She ignored Angel's indignant 'Hey!'

“We're talking information on the pies that Wolfram and Hart has had its fingers in, all over the country. Think about what you could do with that kind of information.” Ms. Morgan looked at each of them in turn. “All right, fine. I knew you'd want proof, so here's a freebie...a down-payment, if you like.” She tossed the floppy disk disk in her hand to Angel, who deftly caught it. “This disk has all the information you'll need to bring down the LA branch's infant smuggling operation in this city.”

“Infant smuggling?” Gunn frowned. “You mean-”

“In some dimensions, human babies are considered a delicacy.” Wesley confirmed. 

“Oh, please, it's not just that!” Lilah said, looking briefly disgusted before he face became an expressionless mask. “Surely you don't think that's  ** _all_**  they use the damn brats for, do you?”

“What are you talking about?” Angel demanded.

“And to think, I thought you actually had a brain.” Lilah sneered. “Hello, Los Angeles? Home of a thousand and one drug deals? You honestly thought Wolfram & Hart wouldn't see a way to enter into that sort of market?”

Cordelia suddenly had a horrified look on her face. “Are you telling me...?”

“They're called  _soul drops_.” Lilah said in distaste, as everyone stared at her in disbelief. “Made from the essence of the newborn, or in some cases, even using _unborn_  human children. Human souls, harvested into the most powerful and addictive drug imaginable. And not that I'm dumb enough to try them myself, but I've heard that the high you get from just one of the damned things...well, it has to be  _seen_  to be believed. That's why they've been earning the firm a fortune from the rich and famous, over the last two financial quarters!”

Wes shook his head, staring at each of his colleagues. “I  **told**  you we hadn't begun to plumb the depths of Wolfram and Hart's depravities.”

“Not even close.” Lilah agreed. “So. Do we have a deal? You get me out of the city safely, and the rest of the files are yours.”

“And where are the rest of those files?” Cordelia asked.

“Somewhere safe. Somewhere neither you people, nor Wolfram and Hart, will ever find them. So, are you going to help me, or am I going to have to give all this _interesting_  information to someone else?”

Wesley scowled, but both he – and everyone else - already knew what the decision would have to be.


	3. Derailment

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Angel the Series.

**Secondary Disclaimer:** Krenshars are a creature/monster from the tabletop roleplaying game, Dungeons and Dragons (I don't own that either). I have lifted the name and one aspect of their nature for the 'Krenshar Demons' I use in this chapter. I do not own the concept of the Krenshar or anything I take from it.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta-reader, for his help

**Author's Note:** For those interested, I've started a tumblr at: alkenifanfiction . Tumblr . Com (take away the extraneous spaces, obviously), for the purposes of talking on a somewhat meta-level about my fanfics – my reasons for doing X instead of Y, how I feel about this or that character or thing from the fandom, and so on. One of the things it will include is some discussion of concepts, themes or information about the fics themselves that are too long for an author's note, and that I really can't fit into the story itself, due to a lack of space or a lack of an appropriate moment story-wise to explore it. Should be pretty interesting, if you like to get as meta about fics and the fandom as I sometimes do.

Don't need to have a tumblr to look at it, so feel free to check it out periodically, as I'll make posts about all my fics there, and potentially thoughts about past fics of mine, or even upcoming projects in the world of fanfiction. If you're interested, check it out. If you're not, well, on with the fic!

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 3: Derailment

**Outside Wolfram and Hart Warehouse, Los Angeles  
8:57 pm, April 27th, 2001**

Angel dropped down from the roof above, landing next to Wesley. The watcher tuned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Well?”

Angel's answer was prefaced with a regretful sigh. “Lilah was right.” It seemed like it actually hurt him to say that. “Three Krenshars and two human handlers on the front door. No other ways in. It doesn't look locked.”

“Well, of course not. Who needs a key when you have a mystical code-spell?” Wesley replied. “But so far, everything Lilah has said about this location has checked out, which suggests that the rest is correct. So we will be moving ahead. What kind of weapons do the handlers have?”

“Some kind of machine gun?” Angel shrugged. “I didn't get that good a look to give you make and model, if that was what you wanted.”

“Machine gun is specific enough.” Wesley replied. “Can you get behind them?” Angel nodded.

“And do what?” Cordelia demanded, interrupting with a hiss. “Kill them? They're human!” Angel recoiled just a little as she brandished her crossbow wildly, even if it wasn't loaded yet.

“If I recall correctly, earlier you were perfectly willing to hand Lilah back to the Senior Partners and let her be killed. You also, as I recall, said you would rather just hand Lindsey, if he had been the one to come to us, back to the Senior Partners to be killed. So it's rather hard for me to understand why you're suddenly squeamish about-” Wesley pointed out, before Cordelia interrupted him.

“This is completely different!” She insisted. “It's one thing to _let_ Wolfram and Hart kill Lindsey or Lilah, who've done who knows what defending who knows what, knowing the whole time that they're working for a bunch of evil demons!” She gesticulated with her free hand as she kept ranting, though quietly. “Lindsey and Lilah knew what they were getting into – and they're _lawyers!_ It's completely different to actually do the killing yourself, and they're just the goon squad anyway.”

“They're guarding a warehouse and factory that centers around the kidnapping of infants and either selling them to be eaten by demons – often alive – or having their souls extracted, turned into a drug and the leftover shells then sold off to demons to be eaten. I don't think their hands are any less dirty than either Lindsey or Lilah's. In fact, strictly speaking, their hands might be even dirtier.” Wesley countered. “Besides,” He added, “I wasn't going to tell Angel to kill them.”

“Oh.” Cordelia said, pausing before sending him a quick glare. “Okay. Continue.”

Wesley resisted the urge to roll his eyes – he was in charge of the group now, so he couldn't act so visibly juvenile – and turned back to Angel. “Knock them out, quick as you can.” Angel nodded. He stepped back a pace, crouched down, then threw himself up, catching onto the roof's edge and vaulting himself up onto it.

“So, now what do we do?” Gunn asked as he walked up behind them. He handed one gas can to Wesley, keeping the other in his hand. Wesley handed him a crossbow and picked up another for his free hand.

“Well, now that you've brought the gasoline, we can proceed with the next step – namely, getting inside. While Angel takes out the handlers, we need to get rid of the Krenshar demons quickly and quietly.” He gestured and the slowly followed him as they winded their way to their destination through the warehouse yard.

“Alright. Well, what's the low-down on these 'Krenshar' demons, Wes? How do we kill them?”

“Krenshars are a canine species of demon, Charles, they're most notable for their ability to peel back their face and stun their prey with the visage beneath. If you see one reach for its head, avert your eyes, or close them if you must. They're large and powerful, but they have one very significant weak spot. Granted, you can simply slice and dice them, but a single sharp point – such as a crossbow bolt – hitting directly into the nerve cluster midway down their spine will stop their heart inside two point seven seconds.” Wesley held up one arm and they drew up short. They could see the Wolfram and Hart warehouse just ahead, two humanoid shapes visible in the light, and three that looked vaguely like dogs.

The former Watcher set his gas can down and crouched just a little, leveling his crossbow, setting a steel-tipped, barbed crossbow bolt into the weapon. He pulled the trigger and the bold whistled from the crossbow, embedding itself into one of the backs of one of the demon dogs. With a pitched half-whimper/cry, the Krenshar collapsed.

“Like that.” Wesley smiled. Cordelia and Gunn, who had started loading only moments after Wesley, fired their crossbows, Angel dropping down behind the confused guards, putting a hand on the side of each of their heads and bringing them together with a thump and letting them collapse to the ground.

Their first shots didn't kill their targets, but Cordelia and Gunn loaded again and fired, though Wesley did again too – but the Krenshars were moving too quickly for even him to get one of those kill shots again. Angel pulled knives from his coat and went after the Krenshars as well. They managed to defeat the demons quickly enough, though with more noise than Wesley would have liked.

“Lovely. They'll be expecting us now.” Wesley grabbed the wrist of one of the unconscious guards and pressed the man's hand to the door, murmuring a word in Ancient Greek. The warehouse door slowly lifted upwards. “Angel, Cordelia, find where they're keeping the infants and get them out of here. Gunn and I will join you shortly.” Angel nodded and he went down the left corridor. Assuming Lilah's intel was right on this too, then they'd find it down there.

“So where are we going, man?” Gunn asked simply.

“We're going to burn down the soul drop factory, of course.” Wesley said, raising an eyebrow. “Why else do you think I had you bring all this gasoline?”

**Private Room, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
9:13 pm, April 27th, 2001**

Wesley had spent over an hour demanding that she tell him everything she knew about the warehouse, even after going over the information she'd given him in the stolen files. And it hadn't even been a particularly fun interrogation, in Lilah's view. No threats, just the same questions over and over and over again before he was satisfied.

She'd half expected them to demand she come with them when they made the attack on the warehouse, but at least they weren't that annoying. _Not going to put myself right into the demon's maw, whatever they want._ Instead, they had decided that they were going to lock her inside of this room and leave her there. _Because I'm totally going to run away, or rummage through their things._

They'd even taken her phone.

What they hadn't taken was the set of lock-picks she'd had down her shirt. She'd wondered if Angel would find them, when he patted her down, but, depressingly, he wasn't _thorough_ enough for that, though at least it gave her a chance to get out of the room. All it had was a boring chair and a bed uglier than the back end of Fyarl demon.

The bed was better than the wallpaper, though. No wonder people had had a habit of going postal in this place...

What the hell. A few twists, a pop and a jiggle later, and she was free of her 'prison'.

Free, yes, but that still didn't give her that much to do.

“Hmm. Didn't count on this part, I suppose.” Lilah drummed her fingers against her leg, standing there in the hallway and wondering what to do next. By now, Angel and his merry little band would be well on their way to getting rid of the Soul Drop warehouse, and saving all the poor little babies. Then they'd know her information was legitimate, and they could finally start talking about getting her the hell out of Los Angeles.

The only tie Lilah would have left, then, would be her mother. That had pretty much been all she'd had anyway, of course...the job wasn't a tie, it was a job. Good job, damn good job, certainly. All the pay and benefits a woman could want. Power, connections.

_But playing for high stakes means placing high stakes._

Lilah wasn't sure what she was going to be doing with her life once she'd left the City of Angels behind. She was still working on that. Well, the specifics anyway; she already knew that she'd need a new name, new identity, and eventually, some kind of new job. But that was just the generalities; something her planned exit strategy from the firm hadn't been able to cover before now. Too many unknowns, depending on the circumstances surrounding her departure from the firm.

_This. Sucks._ Lilah found herself wandering down to the lobby, standing near the desk and the phone there. She looked at it, mind still wandering in an uncharacteristic way. After a few moments of such unfocused wandering, Lilah picked up the phone, dialing a familiar number. Her mother, in her state, kept a great many strange hours. She'd probably be awake.

Sentiment was not something Lilah handled very well...but...her life had just changed drastically, in less than 24 hours. Her life's trajectory had completely reversed, she'd had to utilize a theoretical plan she'd had in place for years...a plan never really meant to be used, but now, had been used anyway. She felt like...like she should call her mother. Talk to her. Somehow explain to her how things had changed...

The voice that answered the phone, however, immediately sent her spasming into fear. “Hello, Lilah Morgan's Mother's Phone, this is Lindsey McDonald. How may I help you?” For a few moments, Lilah couldn't do more than than just...

“Lilah? Lilah? Are you there? Say, would you mind taking a picture of your face? I have to know whether my imagination matches up to the real thing-”

“What the _hell_ are you doing answering my mother's phone!?” Lilah snarled. “Where is she!? What did you do to her!? If you've hurt her, Lindsey, I swear I'll-”

“Oh, come on, Lilah, give me a little more credit than that!I do anything to your mother, and everything you stole goes public immediately. I do anything to you and anything you stole goes public immediately. We both know that. Only difference is now, you know that if you show what you stole to someone else, something happens to your mother. It's Mutually Assured Destruction.”

“I can give you destruction, Lindsey-”

“Lilah, Lilah, Lilah. Get a grip, okay? Your composure is obviously shot. And frankly, after everything we've been through, it's actually painful to hear. Look, let me say a few things - then I'll call you back later, when you're back at your best. I'm sure you had to show the Angel Investigations people something, maybe give them half of what you stole up front? Well, that'll be allowed to slide with my recommendation, I'm pretty sure. But if the rest of that stuff ever slips out of your hands...” Lilah could almost hear him shaking his head, “Well, I can't be held responsible for my actions, I'm sure you understand. I've got a new job and a fancy corner office to keep.”

“You think that's going to stop me?” Lilah demanded, her mind racing on how to deal with this latest curve ball; but not coming up with any solutions. God help her, she honestly hadn't expected this. “I still know Wolfram and Hart inside and out, Lindsey. Don't underestimate me.”

“I won't. And if you're so confident that you know the firm so well, why don't you go and join Angel and his merry little band of do-gooders?” Lindsey shot back, laughing. “It's not like you guys will ever be more than a nuisance anyway, but at least you'll get the satisfaction of feeling like you're making a difference. Why not join in their fun?” The dull click as he finished talking brought along an empty dial tone, the phone dropping nervelessly from Lilah's hand, the tone droning on, unnoticed.


	4. The New Step 3 – Defection

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Angel the Series. That's all Joss, ME, WB, and whoever else. No profit will be made off this story, yadda yadda.

**Author's Note:**  On the off chance any of you are interested in my random ramblings about Exit Strategy and Angel the Series – along with writing updates and occasional teaser excerpts, I direct you to my tumblr . alkenifanfiction. Tumblr. Com (the extraneous spaces must be removed, obviously).

Thanks to Starway Man for serving as my beta-reader for this fic.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 4: The New Step 3 – Defection

**Lobby, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
9:22 pm, April 27th, 2001**

The phone hung there, off the hook, the dial tone still droning on – as Lilah Morgan stood there, almost unable to believe what had just had happened.

He mind still racing, Lilah forced herself to regain her composure. Literally. Closing her eyes, she imagined, for a moment, that she was driving knives into Lindsey's eyes and ears. She didn't bother with deep breaths, or counting to ten, and her imagined attacks on Lindsey didn't last long either. She didn't need any tricks or fancy ways to calm down and recover her composure – she'd worked at Wolfram and Hart for over seven years. No one lasted that long at the firm without knowing how to force themselves into a composed state when they had to.

Drawing on those experiences, Lilah drew herself back under control in less than thirty seconds. Even if those seconds had seemed more like minutes, or hours, or even days...

_Okay, so I'm in quite the situation._  Lilah, as she usually did, started by stating the obvious. Still...the situation wasn't as bad as it had seemed, straight after hearing Lindsey's voice. It was at least a little bit better now, anyway. She had a problem – Wolfram and Hart's golden boy had her mother. But on the plus side, that meant that Lindsey was going to be kept in charge of her case. Unlike some outsider, he at least  ** _knew_** that if she died, everything would go public at once. So even if someone inside Special Projects tried to score points by taking her out on their own, Lindsey's entire job would rely on him stopping them.

She couldn't release what she had, or the firm would kill her mother at once. That was a given. On the other hand, they couldn't do anything to her mother, or to her, as long as she had all the files in her possession.

Where was her mother being held? Impossible to say for sure, but probably at the Fairfield Clinic. Either way, though, it didn't matter – Lilah knew her mother would be moved somewhere else at once, if anyone came snooping around. Given his recent promotion, Lindsey would now know more than she did about the labyrinthine network of Wolfram & Hart's holdings and possessions and shell companies and subsidiaries – both inside and outside this dimension. It wasn't guaranteed that he'd manage to hide her mother somewhere she couldn't find her, but Lilah knew she couldn't afford to place much hope on that.

She had a gun to her head. The firm – and especially Lindsey – had one to theirs. Mutually assured destruction scenario. Lilah forced herself to think tactically: the information, if released, wouldn't destroy the firm's operations in this realm, but it  ** _would_**  do a hell of a lot of damage. And in return, they would send a bullet into her mother's head.

She couldn't release what she had. Which meant that Angel Investigations would be stuck with the half that it still had.

So that was the question. Would she be able to get out of Los Angeles with their help, without giving them the other half of the information? They were the 'good guys' so wouldn't they still help her? They would understand the 'Wolfram and Hart has kidnapped my mother' angle, right?

Then again, they had no particular love for her, especially the Vision Girl. Lilah wouldn't put it past them to not help her, if that bitchy seer started on one of her rants.  **** _Especially_  if Cordelia Chase decided to make life hellish for her co-workers, if she didn't get her own way.

Besides, under these new circumstances, did she really want to leave? Yes, that had been the end game for her exit strategy – but if she had any chance of finding and rescuing her mother, Lilah knew that Los Angeles was the place to be. And Angel Investigations probably offered her the best position from which to do that. And sure, she'd get to spite Wolfram and Hart a little along the way too, which had its advantages.

Could she really bring herself to hang around Angel and his band of merry men, though? They made her more than just a little sick, with their self-righteousness, and their 'goody-two-shoes...we're the good guys' attitude. And they'd probably get all preachy, too, the longer she hung out here.

Although she had to give Wesley some credit. Good guy or not, he had looked like he was fully prepared to shoot her if he felt it necessary. Angel probably would have too, but then, he was Angel. You can't take the vampire out of the man as much as he would like to wish.

So, what now?

_It's not like you have a choice, Lilah._  She thought to herself, her mind reaching a conclusion within a few minutes. The situation just couldn't stand as it was now.

**Lobby, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
11:59 pm, April 27th, 2001**

“God-damn! The way you just shot that demon as it came up behind you, cool as can be? That was something else, man!” Gunn clapped Wesley on the back, as they reached the patio just outside the Hyperion's front door.

“Well, he wasn't as good at sneaking up on me as he thought. Not even close.” Wesley agreed, smiling a little. Both men looked a little worse for the wear after the fight – though not too much, nothing more than scratches and bruises – as did Cordelia and Angel, for that matter. Having the floor plan and the other information provided by Lilah had made the entire task infinitely easier than it might have been.

“The look on his face when you flipped the gun around to point at him.” Gunn added, laughing. “Priceless.”

“That was good work on the Glorak Demon yourself, Charles.” Wesley commented to his friend as they kept walking.

“Bet your ass it was, Wes.” Gunn replied. The two of them stopped for a moment and shared their little 'secret handshake'.

Cordelia let out a scoff at the pair's antics, rolling her eyes and heading on through the door of the hotel, Angel close behind.

“So you're back.” Lilah remarked as they entered, leaning back against the front desk, arms crossed in front of her. “Back, and in one piece, complete with one baby-smuggling and soul drop manufacturing center taken out. Chalk one up for the good guys, and all hail the conquering heroes!” She added with a drawl at the end.

“Can it, Lilah.” Cordelia retorted, an annoyed bite to her tone. “And what are you doing out here, anyway? How did you get out of your room?” She demanded, walking further into the lobby.

“What?” Lilah shrugged with a raised eyebrow. “Did you really expect me to stay in there for hours, all by my lonesome? I got bored.” She stepped away from the front desk, facing them directly. “So, believe me now?” She uncrossed her arms for a moment, before crossing them again, staring at them.

“Yes, we do.” Wesley said as he walked over to her. “Or at least, I believe that you very much want us to believe you. And the two may well both be true, given that we're talking about you, and talking about Wolfram and Hart.” Wesley stopped, looking at her directly. “I'll believe you more when we see the rest of the information. So, where's the other half?”

“That wasn't the deal, Wesley.” Lilah pointed out. “The deal was, I get out of L.A., you get the information. In case you haven't noticed, I'm still in L.A.”  _Not that that plan is going to actually go as intended, but still._

“All I need to do is talk to an old buddy of mine, and you'll be on your way, out of the city and the hell away from us.” Gunn confirmed.

“Excellent.” Lilah remarked, but then she added, “Though, as much as I would like for things to go to plan...believe me, I'd love to get out of here and leave you all to have fun with Wolfram and Hart...unfortunately, it's not going to work like that. A complication's come up.”

Gunn scoffed, “Should have known evil-lawyer-bitch would change things up!”

“Can we toss her out on her ass now?” Cordelia looked to Angel and Wesley, the latter's hand drifting to the handle of his pistol. Lilah just looked unfazed, arms still crossed in front of her, one eyebrow raised, as if daring him to pull it out and shoot her.

“You're afraid.” Angel said, voice lower than usual. “I can smell it. Not of Wesley shooting you – something else. Something's changed from when you showed up. A complication, like you said.” He stepped closer, raising his voice back to normal. “We're not going to get the rest of the files.” It wasn't a question. “You're not going to give them to us, at least not willingly.” Lilah shook her head. “Why? Just because you're contrary and evil?” Angel asked with a scoff.

“What would you do if I said yes? Kill me?” Lilah rolled her eyes.

“We could drag you back to Wolfram and Hart and let them eat you alive.” Wesley pointed out. “Except that you probably have some kind of contingency plan to deal with that.” He kept his hand on his gun, but didn't draw it, musing. “Of course...this is Wolfram and Hart we're talking about.”

“Bingo.” Lilah replied. “I had a gun to Wolfram and Hart's head – well, to Lindsey's head, anyway, given how his precious career and corner office would have been gone if he didn't stop me from releasing the information. Unfortunately, Lindsey found one to put to mine.”

“I don't see why we should believe you.” Gunn retorted. “Besides, whatever it is – if you don't hold up your end of the deal, we don't hold up ours. Simple as that.”

“Nothing is that simple, Gunn.” Lilah replied, rolling her eyes. “Besides, getting out of L.A. isn't on my to-do list anymore. Getting away from Wolfram and Hart isn't going to get me what I want.”

“What do they have that's stopping you? Its obviously not you-” Cordelia started, before her eyes narrowed. “So, what, is there someone in this world you actually care about that isn't you? Who? Because I find  ** _that_** pretty hard to believe.”

“Believe whatever you want, it makes no difference to me. And this isn't a sleep-over, Princess.” Lilah shot back. “I'm not going to bare my soul for you or anyone else to see.” Angel started to say something but Lilah cut in before he could get it out. “And yes, I still have it. Wolfram and Hart doesn't take your soul at my pay grade.”

Gunn rolled his eyes. “Still not believing you. Can still be pretty damn evil, even with a soul.”

“Oh, definitely. Most of my clients still had their souls.” Lilah agreed. “And sure, by your narrow little definitions, I'm evil; but I'm also the person in this room who knows the most about Wolfram and Hart – and while I don't have the depth of Wesley's knowledge on the subject, I sure as hell know more about demons than you three,” She gestured to Cordelia, Gunn and Angel. “You have the first half of the files I gave you, and I just know you're smart enough to figure out some useful stuff out of there.” Her 'certainty' managed just the right touch of skepticism for maximum insult.

“You're not making a particularly good case for us letting you stay here,” Wesley pointed out, his eyes hard and flinty.

“I'll pay rent.” Lilah offered with a smirk. She knew full well that Angel Investigations barely managed to keep its account ledgers in the black, and usually only on the skin of its teeth.

Despite herself, the mention of money got Cordelia's attention, as she thought back to the stack of bills she'd seen in the briefcase Lilah had brought those floppy discs in. She kept herself under control, but still...money would be nice.

“Well, obviously, if we decided to let you stay in the Hyperion, you're certainly going to have to. But I don't think we can trust you enough to even remotely consider letting you actually 'join' Angel Investigations, and certainly not at this time.” Wesley stated. “Nonetheless, we have enough space in the hotel to keep you  _locked_ up in a room of your own, while we figure out what to do with you.”

“I'm not going to be your prisoner while I try to figure out how to get the gun Lindsey's got to my head away from me.” Lilah shot back. “Besides, you're the good guys. You're not supposed to do that sort of thing!”

“Sorry, but you've made quite the incorrect assumption. You're going back up into the room you were in before, and you're going to stay there, locked in, as a general rule.” Wesley replied. “Or are you forgetting who has the gun in this room? Indeed, wouldn't killing you now lead to the files getting released, and thus Lindsey getting axed? Literally, I mean?” He didn't need a response from Lilah. “That would be a win/win situation for  ** _us_** , if not you and your former co-worker...” 

In response to the look Lilah sent him, Wesley shook his head. “Oh, very well. As useful as that would be, I'm not prepared to go  _that_  far for its own sake, but we have no reason to trust you at this time. Prove useful, however, and we shall see.”


	5. Belonging and Banter

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Angel the Series.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta. If you haven't read anything of his, you should, because it's pretty good. I'd recommend 'Knightcurse' as the first one to read. It's old but definitely worth the read.

**Author's Note:**  I am aware that at this point in time, Angel and his friends don't actually know Lorne's name. But I refer to him as such in the narration (and the narration of their thoughts) out of convenience, as it is less clunky than calling him “The Host” each and every time time. When speaking, of course, I don't have them call him Lorne by name before they would actually know that – as you can see in the text.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 5: Belonging and Banter

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
7:34pm, May 2nd, 2001**

“Wes, come look at this.” Cordelia said from the computer. 

_What now?_  Wesley thought grumpily. Which was hardly surprising, of course; ever since  Lilah Morgan had, ah,  _moved into_  the Hyperion, things hadn't exactly been all roses and puppies, as it were. In fact, as far as the ex-Watcher was concerned, it had practically been the week from Hell almost since the moment the female attorney had defected from the enemy's ranks.

Putting down the book he'd been reading, Wesley walked out of his office and over behind Cordelia, looking over her shoulder at the computer screen. “What did you find - ah. Well, now, is that Wolfram & Hart's file on Angel?” Wesley leaned in a little closer, though he was careful not to invade Cordelia's space too much. He knew she didn't like that, and he wasn't in the mood for an argument with his co-worker.

“Part of it. The whole thing is like, seven of these discs.” She gestured to the pile of floppy disks they'd gotten from Lilah. “Anyway, on this one, there's something about Angel and some prophecy. Not that Shanshu one, either.” She read aloud from the screen. “Although the evidence is inconclusive at best, there may nonetheless be reason to believe that the prophecies of the Nyazian scrolls have some bearing on the fate of Angel or Angelus. Did I say that right? Nyazian?” Cordelia looked back at Wesley.

“You did.” Wesley confirmed. He stepped back a pace, thinking.  _Nyazian. Nyazian scrolls. Where have I heard that name before?_

Cordelia looked back at the screen. “The Nyazian scrolls. Ever heard of them? They sound right up you alley.”

“The name does sound vaguely familiar,” Wesley answered, “But I can't recall any details. I'll have to do some research.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah,  ** _that_**  sounds vaguely familiar.”

Wesley bit his tongue before he got into another argument with her. Right now, he really didn't want to sink down to the name-calling and hair-pulling that their arguments usually ended up in after a few minutes. They really did act like juvenile siblings at times, good grief... “Have you found anything else of note in this part of Angel's file?”

“Not really. A whole bunch of memos where everyone keeps covering their ass about all the plans of theirs he's screwed up, or the plans they tried to kill him or bring him onto their side, or whatever it is Evil Incorporated has been doing.” She scrolled down some more, grumbling. “Don't worry; I'll tell you, if I find anything apart from a depressingly long and detailed roster of everyone and everything Angelus killed for nearly a hundred and fifty years. Of course, that'll take a while, given just how much crap is in here. I swear, this must be Lilah's evil master plan. Boring me to death with mostly useless information.”

“I'm sure that's it exactly.” Wesley replied dryly.

“How's the evil bitch settling in, anyway?” Cordelia asked as Wesley started back towards his office.

“Why are you asking me?” Wesley stopped and turned to face her again.

“Because you're the only one who can stand her presence long enough to take food up to the room you locked her up in?” Cordelia offered.

“Well, we can hardly just let her starve, now, can we?”

“I wasn't saying we should, Wes.” Cordelia objected defensively. “Still, you've spent more time around her than any of the rest of us, since you let her move in here.” She pointed out. “So you'd have the best idea of how she's doing.”

Wesley sighed. “I suppose that's true enough.” He looked to his watch. “I also suppose I should take her up something for dinner, given the time.” He looked to the mini-fridge. “Any of the sandwiches left in there?”

“A couple. Just gonna give her leftovers, then?”

“No one's actually eaten from this sandwich, so technically, it's not a leftover.” Wesley said, taking it and a plastic bottle of water out of the fridge. “And yes. While she may be paying rent, I see no reason to treat her to a four-course banquet.”

Wesley took the time to grab a book from his shelf as well and brought it, the water and the sandwich up to her room. It took a bit of juggling to keep all three in his hands and unlock the door, but he eventually managed it.

Lilah was sitting on the edge of the bed, her heels off, eyes on her watch when he actually walked in. “You're late.” She remarked.

“I'm not your concierge, Lilah. You're effectively a prisoner. Be happy I'm not bringing up prison gruel for you to eat.” He tossed her the sandwich and the bottle of water, both of which she caught deftly. He dropped the book on the bed. “I assumed you'd like some new reading material.”

Lilah picked up the book and skimmed over the title page. “Oh, God. Is this really what you read for fun?”

Wesley raised an eyebrow, standing in the open doorway. “What, you don't find it fun?”

“Oh sure,” Lilah drawled. “I just  **** _love_  books on obscure demon languages as much as the next person, but a change of pace would be interesting. Maybe a book with like, a story or something?”

“You do have a laptop computer, and you can access the Internet connection we pay for. You can order something online and have it delivered here yourself. It's not like you don't have the money.” Wesley gestured to the combination-locked briefcase with the money.

“Great idea. Except that no one accepts cash on delivery anymore, and I don't have a credit card to pay online. You know, since if I used one, Wolfram and Hart would know about it and all.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Lindsey already knows where you are.” Wesley pointed out, looking annoyed. “And according to you, he has every reason to keep you alive.”

“Sure, but he's not the only go-getter that wants to kill me. A career could be built on my dead body, Wes. And I'm not going to just rely on you four and Lindsey's sense of self-preservation. You guys have a success rate of what, sixty-forty, and Lindsey has a wonderful habit of screwing up at all the wrong moments.” Lilah scoffed. “I'll worry about covering my own ass too, thank you very much.”

“You're not exactly free of monumental mistakes yourself,” Wesley pointed out. The was the main reason he was always the one to bring Lilah her food, rather than occasionally telling one of the others to do it. He rather enjoyed bantering with the woman. Evil or not, untrustworthy or not, Lilah was able to keep him on his toes during their 'conversations'.

“Most of them being the fault of the happy-happy joy-joy hero gang.” Lilah replied. “And believe it or not, I don't have any credit cards to work with right now. So ordering some kind of book online isn't an option.” She then looked at him, smirking as if she'd gotten an idea. “Unless, of course, you were willing to let me-”

Wesley scoffed, not letting her finish. “Not a chance.”

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Didn't think so. Had to ask. I could just give you a list-”

“I'm not going to be your delivery boy, Lilah.” Wesley pointed out. “You have food, and some more reading material. Behave, or perhaps offer us some help on wading through the discs you did give us, and I might consider options to...broaden you reading base.” Wesley started to turn back towards the door.

“Oooh, bribes. How fun.” Lilah stood up from the bed. “By the way. What happened to your face?” She gestured on her own to where exactly she meant.

“We were hunting a Haklar demon-” Wesley started, not entirely wanting to go into the explanation again, but then he didn't want to just barge out of the room without answering her either. No point in needlessly provoking the woman, even if she was a prisoner around here.

“You let a Haklar hit you? You're getting rusty.” Lilah looked at the injury. “And lucky too, if that's all it did.”

“If only it was that simple.” Wesley drawled. Lilah raised an eyebrow, and Wesley shrugged. “The Haklar was attacking a group of power walkers. After we killed the demon, one of the walkers decided we had disrespected the Haklar's culture by killing it.”

“And so she hit you.” Lilah laughed, a genuine laugh of humor, no scorn at all. “Well, well. Welcome to the twenty-first century.”

“Welcome to Los Angeles, more like.” Wesley countered. “I take it you don't plan on being helpful, then?”

Now it was Lilah's turn to shrug. “I'll consider it.”

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
8:27 pm, May 2nd, 2001**

“You mentioned teeth.” Angel replied flatly, in answer to Lorne's question. Along with Cordelia and Wesley, he was having trouble taking this problem of Lorne's as seriously as the anagogic demon was. Hungry new demon roaming L.A. was never a good thing, sure...but still, did he need to be this frantic about it?

Lorne wasn't having it, putting his hands out to the side in exasperation. “Are you gonna help me, or do I have to break out my champion rolodex?”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Okay. We can start at Caritas-”

Wesley might have been willing to let Angel take the lead up until now – force of habit, after all – but then he suddenly had an idea. So he interrupted the vampire. “We'll figure out how best to help you if you do a favor for us.”

“Wes!” Cordelia protested, looking indignant, the expression on her face saying 'That's not how this works!'

Wesley looked to her. “Cordelia, have you forgotten who exactly we have locked up in a room upstairs?”

Recognition dawned on Cordelia's face. “Ohhhhhh. Okay! Yep, that's a good idea.”

“You're locking people up now, Wes? That's a little hardcore, don't you think?” Lorne commented, looking at the former Watcher askance. 

“Not at all, considering the personage in question. And before you ask, it's Lilah Morgan from Wolfram and Hart. She's defected from the law firm, or so she says.” Wesley shrugged, bobbing his head down a moment. “We can't trust her, obviously, so she's locked upstairs in her own room for now.”

Lorne saw where this was going a mile away. He held up a hand, shaking his head vigorously. “No, no, no! Sorry, pudding, but I don't go around reading people and then telling other interested parties what I saw. I'm a professional, plus I have a reputation to maintain...and besides, I have a responsibility to people's destinies.” He shook his head again. “It's simply not what I do, slim. It just isn't.”

“What if she gave you permission to tell us at least enough to know if we can trust her?” Angel asked. Respect for Lorne's dedication to his work ethic or not, that dedication was causing another headache for him. Again.

“Why would she do that?” Lorne asked.

“Because,” Wesley explained. “She's bored out of her skull up there. I told her that if she behaved, I'd see about letting her out of the room some or perhaps expanding the reading material available to her.”  
“Books on demonic and dead languages not doing it for her, huh?” Cordelia smirked.

“Surprisingly, no.” Wesley said with a perfectly straight face.

“What a shocker.”

Lorne made a gesture of defeat. “Alright, fine. If she agrees of her own free will that I can tell you about what I get off of her, then I'm in. But after that, you have to help me with this Drokken beast. Agreed?”

“Yes.It's a deal, then. I'll go get Lilah.” Wesley went up the stairs. After a few minutes, he came back with Lilah walking in front of him. She saw Lorne and immediately turned around, trying to go back upstairs past him.

“No way.” Lilah said firmly, as she tried to get around Wesley.

“No way, what?” Wesley replied, blocking her path easily.

“Don't try to play dumb with me, Wesley. You have The Host here. You want me to sing for him. It's beyond obvious you wanna know all my secrets. What, you thought I wouldn't get it straightaway? I can't believe you thought I'd be dumb enough to fall for  ** _that_**.” Lilah face-palmed. “Forget it, I'm not singing.”

“Lilah, if you want to have some different books to read, or be perhaps let out of the room on a more regular basis-” Wesley countered, voice calm and explanatory, level.

“Screw you, Wesley.” Lilah interrupted with a scowl. “You can't bribe me with crap like that. It's not happening.”

“Very well then, Lilah, let me put it like this. You've been here a week. But you can't stay here forever - I'm not going to let you stay here forever, if I'm not sure if I can trust you. You say you want to help us against Wolfram and Hart because of the...gun you have to their head, I believe you put it. But you can't help us very much locked up in your room or out there,” He pointed to the door, as if he really needed to illustrate his point that way, “vulnerable to someone wanting to build a career out of your dead body, to use your turn of phrase.”

“The deal is you give your permission to The Host to tell us what's what, after you hum a few bars.” Angel said, glowering at the enemy lawyer. “We don't need to know everything, at least not right now; just that you're on the up and up.”

“I shouldn't need to point out that your word on the matter is nowhere near good enough.” Wesley added. “Now, what will it be?”

Lilah looked from him, to Lorne, to the doors, and then back. “Fine.” She turned back to look at Lorne. “But I'm not doing it where anyone else can hear me.”

Lorne shrugged. “Not a problem.” He headed up the stairs, and Wesley let Lilah pass to follow him.

It took at least fifteen minutes for the two to come back down. “Happy?” Lilah demanded, her biting tone far from the almost playful sarcasm Wesley – and indeed, all of them – was used to from the Morgan woman lately. Pissed off clearly didn't cover her mood.

_Alright...clearly it wasn't – or at least wasn't just – that she didn't want people to hear her sing._  In retrospect though, such aversion made perfect sense. Still didn't change that it had to be done.

“I don't know.” Wesley answered Lilah's question. He looked to Lorne. “Well?”

Lorne rubbed his forehead a moment. “You can trust that she hates Wolfram and Hart. No doubt about that. Ms. Morgan's definitely not on their side anymore, so she won't stab any of you in the back while she's here...well, unless it's to save her own life, or there's literally no other choice, or whatever. Bottom line is that she's genuine in her...defection.”

Wesley nodded.  _The best we can expect, I suppose._  “Alright. Then we'll help you with your Drokken problem. In the meantime, Lilah, I'm taking you back to your room. We can discuss the terms of your expanded freedoms and privileges after the current crisis is resolved.”

“Fine.” Lilah's tone was unchanged in that reply, and she went back into her room. Once she was in, Wesley locked the door behind her, gathered the troops and they all set off on the Drokken hunt.

**Lilah's Room, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
12:13 am May 3rd, 2001**

Lilah drummed her fingers against the baseboard of the bed, bored almost out of her brain, even though she wasn't tired. Her gaze drifted back to the book Wesley had brought up earlier. She was actually bored enough to giving it a quick read, for lack of anything else to do.

_I really need a wider variety of hobbies._  Well, actually, more specifically, she needed something to do. Hopefully, once the heroes decided they could let her out of here without having to worry she'd stab them the first chance she got, she'd actually be able to get some things done. Like maybe, just maybe, enlisting someone to help find her mother...

Lilah was drawn out of her annoyed musings by the sound of the door unlocking and opening. She heard Wesley's voice and looked up as he tossed a pair of steel handcuffs onto the bed. “Put them on.”

“Oh? Kinky.” She smirked. “To be honest, Wes...I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, or that our relationship had progressed to this particular point so quickly.” Lilah smirked as Wesley coughed and flushed, unable to reply for many seconds as he struggled to regain his composure.

“No, they're not - they're not for that. We're going somewhere, and for the moment, Lorne's reading aside, my trust in you has limits.” Wesley looked down a moment.

“Ooh, a field trip. How fun.” Lilah stood up and closed one of the cuffs around one of her wrists. “You know, I can't do the other myself.”

“Point.” Wesley walked over to her and closed the cuff around her other wrist, her hands now secured in front of her.

“So The Host's name is actually Lorne, I take it?” Lilah asked. “And exactly where are we going?”

“Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan, apparently. Lorne for short.” Wesley confirmed. “And do you want the long version or the short one?”

“How about the short one now, long version after that?” She followed Wesley out of the room.

“Cordelia got sucked into a portal and has ended up stuck in a demon dimension, and we're going after her. I'm not leaving you behind to starve to death in the hotel, so you're coming with us.” Wesley gestured for her to walk faster, picking up his own pace.

Lilah grimaced.“If you think I'm going to- wait, did you say demon dimension? And Deathwok Clan?”


	6. Once More, Into the Dimensional Breach

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own Angel the Series.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

**Author Notes:**  Yes, I am aware there is a lot of rehashing of scenes from the show, including ripping a lot of lines straight from the episode itself. I normally don't do that, but sometimes it's just the nature of the fic that it's not really avoidable.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 6: Once More, Into the Dimensional Breach

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
7:41 am, May 3rd, 2001**

From her vantage point standing behind the circular couch in the center of the Hyperion's lobby, Lilah watched as Angel began is interrogation of 'Lorne', even as Wesley brought out yet another stack of books to continue his research.

_There's no way the Host can be 'Deathwok Clan'. He sings!_  Lilah rolled her eyes as that thought crossed through her mind again, then she turned her attention back to the 'Angel Is Losing It' Show playing out right in front of her. Damnit.  _Even if I had popcorn, I wouldn't be able to eat it..._  Lilah's hands were still cuffed, which was getting more than a little bit annoying. Well, at least they were cuffed in front of her.

“Start talking.” Angel demanded, looking Lorne right in the eyes.

“About my home dimension?” Lorne nodded dramatically, gesturing with his hands as he went on. “Okay, sure. Let's see. I was there. I came here. I like here. I don't wanna go there. So is that all?” Lorne started to stand up from the couch. “Because I have to go clean up my club.”

Angel wasn't having any of that. “Sit.” Biting his tongue, Lorne dropped back down onto the couch, apparently not wanting to argue against Angel's glare. “Let's start simple. How did you get from your world to here?”

“Through a portal.” Lorne answered, shrugging as the vampire looked away in concern.

“And how did you open that portal?” Angel asked the obvious next question, looking back up from the desk at Lorne with...something feral, almost, in his eyes.

Lorne answered that one with deceptive simplicity. “I didn't.”

_Of course, because that would make everything too easy._  Lilah looked towards Wesley, ready to all but beg him to take the damn handcuffs off, but to no avail – the ex-Watcher was too busy with the latest book he was checking.  _Somebody get these things off of me, because I'm about to go postal here..._

Looking over to Wesley for a moment, Angel looked back to Lorne, annoyance creeping into his tone as he said. “You're not helping me here.”

Lorne let out a soft sigh. “Look, it's no secret that I hate Pylea.”

Angel stood up straight at hearing that word, coming up around the desk. “Pylea.”

“My home dimension-” Lorne started to continue, but Lilah interrupted, curiosity getting the better of her. 

“How the  _hell_  are you from Pylea? I mean, you sing. Which is supposed to be impossible for someone like you, isn't it?” the female attorney wanted to know. 

Lorne looked over towards her, just as incredulous as the other two that she knew that bit of information. 

Wesley spoke first, setting down another book he'd started to check. “You know about Lorne's home dimension? And you choose  _now_  to say something about it?”

“Oh, give me a break, Wesley - I didn't know it was his world. I'm not an expert on the place, and besides - he sings.” Lilah gestured towards Lorne as best she could with her hands cuffed together. “So sue me, I didn't make the connection until after I heard the name 'Pylea' just now.”

“Lilah. What does singing have to do with anything?” Angel demanded.

“Well, gee, champ, funny thing. There's no music in Pylea.” Lilah explained, smirking in a way that would have sent Angel's blood pressure soaring if he'd had a functional heart.

“No music?” Wesley's full attention was the conversation playing out in front him, rather than the books, finally. Lilah took that as a positive sign.  _And now, hopefully, a chance to get these damn cuffs off._

“ **No**  music.” Lorne confirmed, standing up from the couch again. “It doesn't exist. Well, not there it doesn't, anyway. Do you know what that's like?” Lorne looked over towards Angel, though the demon was as much looking past him, to the sunlit courtyard outside. “No lullabies, no love songs.” Angel all but rolled his eyes, exasperation clearly written across his features, but Lorne kept going. 

“All my life, I thought I was crazy. That I had ghosts in my head or something. Simply because I could hear music, and no one else could.” A slight wistfulness entered his tone as Lorne hasted to explain more fully. “Of course, back then I didn't  **know**  it was music. All I knew was that it was something beautiful and - and painful - and right. And I was the only one who could hear it. Then I wound up here and heard Aretha for the fist time...well...” 

Lorne let out a soft laugh, but then his tone and expression grew grave again. “Don't kid yourselves. Cordy's in a very bad place.” The anagogic demon sat back down on the couch, hands on his knees.

“Because they don't have music?” Angel, of course, didn't get it from Lorne's perspective.

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Could you at least  **try**  not to live down to my expectations of you, you undead moron? It's not just because of that. Pylea's a bad place for _**any**_  human to be, and for more reasons than just the lack of music!”

“What do you know about that world?” Wesley asked her, even as he started going through the books again, one eye still on the proceedings before him.

Lilah held up her hands in front of her, rattling the handcuffs slightly. “Take these off and I'll tell you what I know.”

“We're not bargaining with you. Talk.” Angel all but snarled at her.

“Or what? You'll torture me into confessing everything I know?” Lilah smiled at Angel, who visibly struggled not to go into his game face. “Wow. When the chips are down, some Champion for the Powers  ** _you_**  are...”

“Angel, calm down.” Wesley said in a tool of cool reproach, as the vampire glared at the prisoner. “Unlock her cuffs.” He tossed a key to Angel. The vampire caught it on instinct, then, glaring at Lilah, he walked over to the lawyer and released her. Lilah smirked and tossed the handcuffs onto the couch.

“Now. Talk.” Angel ordered, taking a step back from her, but he looked ready to go at her immediately if he needed to – or just felt like it.

Lilah rolled her eyes at the 'macho' display and began her explanation. “Pylea is a hell dimension the Senior Partners took over a few thousand years ago. Well, 'hell' being a relative term of course; the place is more woodsy than hellfire and brimstone, but that's the official designation, anyway. So the Senior Partners overthrew the reigning monarchy back then, and set up an elite priesthood to run the place in their name. They call themselves the Covenant of Trombli. Deathwok and Gathwok are the main species of demon there – as well as a whole host of human slaves.”

“ _Wolfram and Hart_  are the ones behind the Covenant...?” Lorne looked at her in amazement, but then shook his head, almost amused. “Well. That explains a lot.”

“Anything else? Anything that we can use?” Angel demanded. “Like how to get there?”

“No.” Lilah replied. “Look, I'm no expert on the place; all I know, it's just information I came across while I was trawling through various files looking for the blackmail material I ended up using to get out of Wolfram and Hart. I didn't spend that much time reading the file. I mean, if you're that interested, we could always break into the building and get ourselves killed trying to find our way there...” 

“Not funny. You'll notice I'm not laughing.” Angel glared at her. “Damn it, Lilah, Cordelia's in trouble. Give me something I can  ** _use!_** ”

Lilah paused, thinking. After a minute, she added. “You'll want to go there armed. Bring a gun or two, or maybe even something with bigger firepower if you can get something. Like Lorne can tell you, the place is pretty medieval in terms of technology.”

Lorne shrugged, as all eyes turned to him. “Well, hey, when the lady's right, she's right. Swords, axes, crossbows, the most high-tech thing I can think of they have there is a catapult.”

Then Lilah looked thoughtful. “Hang on, I remember something about rebels. Human slaves that had escaped and were fighting – ineptly – against the Covenant. The Senior Partners were considering sending some troops to help the locals deal with it. If I'm remembering right, upper management had decided the rebels weren't enough of a threat yet.”

“See, now that's something useful.” Angel threw up a hand a moment, then turned back to face Lorne, walking a bit away from Lilah. “Okay, this portal that brought you from Pylea to here. What do you know about it? How did you find it?”

“I don't know nothing, pudding, and I didn't find it. It found  **me**! I'm alone in the woods one day, five years ago, when suddenly, this...shimmering thing appears right in front of me. Of course, I have no idea what it is, but when I get closer to take a look – the forest goes all bendy, and whoosh,” Lorne snapped his fingers. “I'm in an abandoned building, in this dimension, which I  **love**  and  **adore**  and will never, never, never,  **never**  leave.”

“But then who,” Angel snapped, “opened the portal?”

Lorne held up a closed hand. “Gift horse.” He opened his hand and looked in the opposite direction. “Mouth.” He dropped his hand and looked back towards Angel.

“It's cold!” Wesley said in a strangely triumphant tone, looking up from one of his books.

“What?” Angel's brow furrowed in confusion. “So put on a sweater.”

Wesley just stared at him for a moment, his mind on a completely different wavelength. “No. No, no, no. The hotspot is cold.” Lilah openly cracked a smile at the confused looks on Lorne and Angel's faces, as Wesley came around from behind the desk and started to explain. “Certain geographical areas are rife with psychic energy. These areas tend to function as...” He groped at the air, as if searching for the right words. “dimensional hotspots, natural gateways between worlds. I'm guessing Caritas is one such spot. But the catch is..."

“Oh, gotta have one of those.” Angel drawled before Lilah could beat him to it.

“Creating a portal tends to deplete a hotspot of its psychic energy.” Wesley finished his explanation.

“And you already created one in that particular nightclub.” Lilah noted. “Which would explain why-”

“Why you couldn't open a second portal at Caritas, Angel. The hotspot was cold.” Wesley concluded, finishing off Lilah's sentence.

“See?” Angel said, sounding almost pleased. “I was right about the batteries.”

_Trust Angel to simplify it down to that level._  Lilah commented internally.  _And it looks like I'm going into another dimension with these people? Oh, God..._

Well, it was either that or stay here and face all manner of unpleasant possibilities. Like starving to death. He might not kill her, but Lilah didn't doubt Wesley would make sure she didn't escape from the hotel if she refused to go to Pylea with him; worst case scenario, he'd order Angel to break both her legs so that she couldn't even crawl away.  _Crap._  

On the other hand, Pylea. Hostile demon dimension, run by that so-called Covenant. Going there with Angel's Avengers didn't exactly appeal, even if the two-way trip shouldn't take long. But Lilah really didn't want to find out what would happen, if something went wrong with the plan – or if they would just hand her off to someone or something else.  _Oh damn it, too much longer around these 'heroes' and I'm going to lose it._

“The same probably applies to the hotspot in the library.” Wesley thought aloud, pacing a little.

“Why not wait until the portal recharges, then?” Lorne asked, looking from Wesley to Angel.

“That could take days.” Lilah pointed out. “Or less, or more. Unless you have some way of knowing, Wesley?” She raised an eyebrow.

Wesley shook his head. “No. Besides, Cordelia may not have that long. We need a fresh hotspot, right now, but that's not our only problem.”

“Of course it's not.” Angel complained. 

Lilah curled her lip at him derisively.  _What did you think, Angel? Portals aren't the same thing as simply gassing up the car and driving off._  Really, how had this guy ever beaten Wolfram and Hart on anything?

“When separate entities enter a dimensional portal they tend to – well – separate.” Wesley moved his hands farther apart, as if to illustrate a point that needed no illustration. “Assuming we find another hotspot, and manage to open another portal to Pylea, if we simply jump in...we could end up literally on opposite ends of the world.”

“That means Landok and Cordy...” Lorne started, following Wesley's logic. “They didn't arrive together.”

“She really is alone.” Angel said softly. 

Before Angel could say anything else, Gunn walked into the lobby. “Hey.”

“Gunn, where have you been – we spoke hours ago?” Wesley wanted to know.

“Sorry.” Gunn said as an answer. “I had things to deal with.”

“No, it's okay. It's fine.” Wesley gestured to Angel. “Would you bring him up to date?” Then he looked over to Lilah. “Since you're not handcuffed anymore – for the moment – you can help me with the research.”

Lilah looked at him pointedly, then to the stacks of books. 

“Unless you'd care to be handcuffed again, don't say it. Don't even think it; I'm seriously not in the mood for your issues!”

Sighing and glaring at the Englishman, Lilah followed him back over behind the desk, only half listening to the conversation between Gunn and Angel, then the latter’s conversation with Lorne.  _Way to show your loyalty, Charlie. And what's with that look on your face? You'd think somebody just died..._

Oh well, Lilah was fairly confident it wouldn't be a one-way trip. Assuming they lived through all the dangers, of course. The Senior Partners would have left the Covenant some way to travel to other dimensions, in case of emergency or if there was a need to contact them or their agents on other worlds. And if worse came to worst, she just needed to find out what that way was.

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
11:48 am, May 3rd, 2001**

Lilah was no stranger to research, of course, but she had no experience with the way Wesley did it. The man had a capacity to hop from one book to another, checking references and comparing details with an almost frantic speed, and still retaining a coherent train of thought with each tome he consulted. By now, she was pretty sure they'd opened just about every book in the hotel, all of them strewn about everywhere – on the desk, on the stairs leading to the upper levels of the hotel, on the couch, and especially on the floor.

Lilah had since given up on trying to keep up with Wesley's pace – or perhaps more accurately, his style – of research. She was still 'helping' him, checking over some of the books, but she wasn't exactly checking them all that hard. Fortunately, Wesley seemed too distracted to notice her minimal effort.

Both men were pacing, Wesley with a book in his hands, Angel just looking bored.

“I suppose,” Wesley started thinking out loud. “I could try a binding spell of some kind. Something that would fuse us together as we enter the portal.”

It took barely a second for Angel to latch onto that one. “Good, let's do that.”

Wesley looked over in Angel's direction. “However, we could emerge on the other side as...well, a single, freakishly hybridized, multi-headed creature.”

“Let's not go with that one then.” Lilah suggested.

Wesley started moving to another one of the puddles of open books. “You know, this is the third reference I've seen to iron or metal.” He crouched near the books and started to consult several. At once. “It could be a clue to as to how to prevent us from scattering.”

“What, we just handcuff ourselves together?” Angel asked, half-sarcastically, half-seriously. He looked over to the handcuffs that were lying on the floor. “Hey, Wes? Why  ** _do_**  you have those cuffs, anyway? It's not like they'd be of much use against most of the demons we deal with.”

“Well-” Wesley started, then looked back at one of the books. “You never know when they'll come in useful, and not evil in this world is caused by demons.” Fortunately for Wesley, Angel wasn't looking at the former Watcher as he spoke just then.

_Sure, Wesley. Sure..._  Lilah smirked just a little at that. She'd been wondering the same thing – even though she'd expected the more simple explanation that he'd gotten them after she'd moved in, in case they ever let her out of the hotel room they'd locked her into. This was more amusing, though.

“Besides, I'm not sure handcuffs would work.” Wesley added. “And I only have the one pair.”

“Then what  ** _will_**  work, Wes?!” Angel demanded. “Damn it, it's been almost twelve hours!”

“A car.” Lilah cut into the conversation.  _I stand corrected. It really is that easy._  “Get into a car and drive it through the portal.”

“Of course!” Wesley exclaimed. “She's right - if we're enclosed on all four sides by metal, there won't be any scattering effect.”

Angel seemed about to respond, but instead he looked past Wesley towards the door, and both Wesley and Lilah followed his gaze. She thought to herself. _Gavin? Gavin Park? What the hell are you doing here?_

“What do you want?” Angel demanded, icily. He was able to tell from the clothing alone who the two new arrivals, that had entered the building without knocking, had to be.

“Angel.” Gavin Park said in a smooth, almost unassuming tone. “Good afternoon.”

“Lawyers.” Angel all but spat. He looked back towards Lilah, and then to the new arrivals. “Wasn't one in my hotel enough?”

Lilah held up her hands. “I'm not with them. I'm on your side now, remember?” Lilah didn't bother to keep a straight face while she said that, and laughing softly at Angel's expression of pure disbelief.

Gavin studiously ignored her. “I'm Gavin Park, and this is my associate Mr. Hayes.” He indicated the man standing next to him. “We represent Wolfram and-”

“Already bored.” Angel interrupted.

“We've come to appraise the hotel.” Gavin explained. At Angel's 'What?', Gavin continued. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but your lease expires in six months, and Wolfram and Hart is interested in purchasing this building.”

Lilah barely managed to stifle herself before she burst out laughing again. A fact that bothered her. She'd let her composure slip too much during the last week. Any slippage was too much. “That's your master plan, Gavin? Seriously? Annoying Angel into submission?”

Now Gavin looked to her. “Lilah, I'm not really sure what position you're in to have anything to say on the matter.”

“Maybe not.” Lilah countered with a smirk. “But I can say this: Lindsey is definitely going to eat you alive.” Hate the man or not, she'd always had respect for Lindsey's judgment and ability, though they had slipped some since he'd lost his hand and the...Darla episode. Gavin, though...he lacked imagination, to put it mildly. If they'd actually moved him to Special Projects to take her place...

_Whoever's running the show there is obviously missing a whole lot of something. Or else, there's something happening behind the scenes that I'm not aware of, and I sure as hell don't like the sound of that._

Gavin went back to ignoring her and turned back to Angel. “We'd like to take a walk around the place, if you don't mind.” Gavin started towards the stairs leading up to the second floor, but drew up short as Angel snarled, wearing his vampiric face. 

“You think I mind?” The ensouled vampire rasped.

Gavin sighed, but didn't appear fazed. Unlike his associate Mr. Hayes. Park replied, “Very well. We'll contact your real estate company and notify them of your noncompliance. They should send you a notice of obligation. After that, if you still refuse to cooperate, well...” He let himself smirk a little. “I'm sure that somewhere in your lease agreement there must be one or two loopholes to be exploited.” Gavin turned and left the hotel along with the silent Mr. Hayes.

_If Gavin's latest plan is the best they can come up with..._ Lilah rolled her eyes.

**Out Front of a Movie Studio, Los Angeles  
6:15 pm, May 3rd, 2001**

_This is an absolutely insane idea._  Unfortunately, Lilah had no better ideas. Her options consisted of staying in L.A. while Angel and his merry band left to a hell dimension controlled by the Senior Partners...or going with them to said dimension. Both of which, as she very well knew, posed grave risks to her health and safety.

_If I don't go, even if I don't get killed by Gavin or whatever idiot looking to build a career on my body..._  Well, the only chance she had at getting her mother out of Lindsey's hands lay in working with Angel Investigations, like it or not. Wherever Lindsey had her stashed, it wouldn't be anywhere she'd already known about. Lindsey would have abandoned any of his old safehouses following her defection.  _If she's even in L.A. Or in this dimension._  Both were likely, but not certain.

“Here. Stop.” Lorne directed, and Angel pulled the car up short, hitting the brakes.

“Isn't this a movie studio?” The vampire looked around in confusion.

Lorne shrugged. “Makes a certain kind of sense, no? Anyway, this is where Aggie said it was, and she's never wrong when it comes to hotspots. She was doing sky bar way before-”

“We get the idea.” Lilah interrupted, already bored.

Lorne shot her a Look and then nodded to Wesley. “You got the book?” Wesley held it up. “Good. Hold that puppy tight, okay? It's bad enough I got to cross over. The  ** _last_**  thing I wanna do is be stuck on the other side, waiting for a mystical locksmith.”

“Alright then.” Wesley nodded to Angel. “I suppose we should probably begin.”

“Should I...you know, put the top up?” Angel suddenly asked.

Wesley shook his head. “Shouldn't be necessary. I'm almost positive this will work.”

“Almost?” Angel asked.  _How almost is almost?_  Lilah found herself agreeing with the vampire.

“Ninety-six percent.” At everyone's disbelieving expression, Wesley added defensively. “Well, it's not as if I've ever done this before! And given that we don't have enough time to properly-”

Lilah turned as a new voice interrupted Wesley. “Oh, suck it up English.” Gunn climbed over the door to get into the backseat, leaving all three of them with a whole lot less room. The former gang leader stared at Lilah. “You're coming? Why?” He looked over to Wesley. “Seriously, man, why's she coming?”

“Wesley didn't exactly give me any other desirable options. At least this way, I can die watching all of you die too – and know that I died annoying you all.” Lilah gave a 'winning smile'.

“Shut up, Lilah.” Angel cut in, looking annoyed with her. 

The Morgan woman tuned out the ensuing conversation, where the white hats enjoyed their little reunion – and where Lorne tried, one last time, to talk his way out of going on the journey with them. To no avail. Finally, Wesley read from the book, and the air before them started to warp and crackle, the entire area distorting as the interdimensional portal was activated.

“This is an insane idea.” Lilah muttered one last time, as the car drove into the portal. A blinding flash surrounded them, and then...

**Forested Area, Pylea  
A few moments later**

Lilah listened as everyone else screamed with varying pitch and intensity, the car flying downwards to land with a bump and thump onto the ground.

The sun was shining, and there were trees all around. It seemed an almost idyllic day. Looking towards Angel, Lilah let out a soft laugh as the vampire finally noticed the sunlight.

“The sun. Daylight. Quick! Hand me a blanket. Hand me a blanket or I'm gonna catch on fire!” Wesley scrambled to grab the blanket stashed below the passenger seat, Angel almost pathetically trying to cover himself with his jacket. 

“Gimme that blanket!” Angel insisted, as he grabbed it out of Wesley's hands. “I'm gonna-”

“As much as I like watching you squirm, Angel, you're fine.” Lilah said. She looked up in the direction of the twin suns of Pylea and pointed. “If those suns were going to burn you, they would have turned you into ashes by now.”

“Suns?” Wesley looked up. “Hmm. Fascinating.” He looked over to Lorne. “Are the days longer here? Is it ever night?”

“Yes, and yes.” Lorne said, pressing his hands to his temples as if trying hold back a headache. “Oh, dear. Home sweet hell.”

“Did you guys see the street do that bendy thing?” Gunn asked, sounding totally amped.

“Why am I not burning?” Angel asked, looking at Wesley.

“I'd imagine the metaphysical laws must be different here. At least somewhat. Or perhaps the vampiric weakness to daylight is connected to some trait our own sun has, which these ones...” Wesley trailed off as he saw Angel jump out of the car, walking in the sunlight, smiling broadly.

“Someone's enjoying themselves.” Lilah muttered in disgust.

“Wonder if this is where Cordy came through?” Gunn thought aloud.

“Could be.” Wesley agreed.

“Probably somewhere around here, anyway.” Lilah semi-agreed. She looked over at Lorne. “How big is Pylea, anyway? I know the Senior Partners had most of the population exterminated when they took over. And they'd keep the remaining citizens clustered as close as possible to their seat of power. Easier to monitor them that way.”

Lorne sent a glare in her direction for Lilah's casual description of the slaughter of who knew how many Pyleans, even if was thousands of years ago. “Everyone lives within about a week's travel of the palace. I was only roughly a day's walking distance, maybe, when I went through that portal. And no one has ever traveled farther than a few weeks' walking or riding distance from the palace, that I know of. My people – not very curious.”

"Let's start gathering some branches,” Angel suggested. “some brush. Anything to cover up the car. Oh, hey, look.” He pointed. “There's some over in that patch of sun. I'll get them!" 

Lilah watched Angel frolic around in the sunlight, then turned away.  _Try not to give in to complete despair. The Senior Partners are obviously idiots, too, for wanting to bring **this**  vampire over onto their side..._

“Wes. I'll give it to you. Trip to an alternate universe? Pretty damn cool.” Gunn and Wesley performed an elaborate handshake. “But,” Gunn clarified. “I wanna find Cordy, quick.”

"Me too.” Lorne agreed. “Well, I-I mean for her sake of course. If I know Pylea, she could probably use a friend right about now." There was no joviality in his tone. Then he added, looking back to the car as Gunn and Wesley retrieved weapons. Including a handgun. “Look, much as I don't like fighting, it might be a good idea to have those weapons handy...since...well, since you're all human...but please, if you have to use them...try to minimize casualties? They're not all bad people here.” He shrugged. “They just don't know any better.”

Then Lorne realized something was wrong. “The book. Where's that darn book to get us home?”

**Outside Throne Room, Palace, Pylea  
Several Hours After Arrival**

_Try to minimize casualties._ Lilah fumed silently at Lorne, as the Covenant guards marched her, Wes, Angel and Gunn towards the throne room to face judgment from the 'Princess'. And there was a novel concept. There wasn't supposed to  ** _be_**  one of those around here.  _Oh, and I've got a brilliant idea Wesley! Bring a gun to a sword fight, but don't use it just because there was a baby demon in the way!_  She closed her eyes a moment.  _If this so-called Princess of Pylea doesn't kill these clowns, I will..._

Finally, they reached the doorway to the throne room, large and at least attempting to be imposing. Lorne was standing there, waiting for them, his hands shackled together just as theirs were. He had stayed behind to search for the missing book, while Wesley had led everyone else off in the search for Cordelia; and he had obviously fared no better than they after arriving home.

Lorne let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, am I glad to see most of you.” He said, sparing a brief 'Look' for Lilah. “And so much less dead than I expected.”

“What did they do to you?” Lilah demanded.

“Oh, well, first there was the welcome home parade in my honor.” He held up his hands. “Ticker tape, streamers. Honestly, I'm so touched, I almost wept.” Angel, Gunn and Wesley didn't laugh. “What do you think? They locked me in a room, pushed me around, asked a bunch of questions. Your standard film noir.”

Angel leaned in towards Lorne, speaking softly. “I think we might have a lead on Cordelia.”

“You found her?”

Angel shook his head. “No.” He motioned for the rest of them to come in a bit closer. Lilah just listened from where she stood, as they talked about what they'd overheard in the prison cell – a girl with visions, cursed, the Covenant and tests, et cetera, et cetera, blah blah blah.

Finally, they were interrupted by Chairman Competence himself, Constable Narwek. “Silence, Krevlorneswath of the Deathwok Clan! You and these cow-trash are not to speak.” 

_That's it. I've had it up to here with that 'cow' nonsense of his._  When Angel initiated his inevitable escape attempt, Lilah resolved to make sure she got Narwek between the legs. She had no clue if it was actually going to accomplish anything, demon anatomy often being what it was; but it would be quite satisfying to do the deed, anyway.

“Ah, de-bunch your panties, Narwek.” Lorne shot back, disgruntled.

"You...” Narwek gestured at Lorne angrily, as if personally offended. “...are a traitor to your home. You abandoned your life-giver, betrayed your people and now you consort with these - animals. I  **will**  take great pleasure in watching them kill you slowly."

Angel leaned back in towards Lorne, as Narwek started talking to one of the 'Imperial Guard'. “They gonna take us in separately or together?”

“What?” Lorne didn't get the meaning of the question.

“Separately or together?” Angel repeated himself. “Quickly, we don't have much time.” He added insistently.

“I don't know!” Lorne countered indignantly. “I've never been sentenced to death before!” He guessed randomly with a shrug. “Together?”

“Listen up-” Angel started, but Narwek interrupted him as he turned to address all five of them. 

“Prisoners! Your day of judgment has arrived. Approach! The venerable monarch of Pylea, General of the Ravenous Legion, Eater of Our Enemy's Flesh, Prelate of the Sacrificial Blood Rites, and Sovereign Proconsul of Death,”  _Really?_  Lilah snarked in her mind. Narwek, of course, didn't notice that and continued. “is prepared to pass sentence on upon you.” 

“One.” Angel murmured as the double doors opened and they were led into the throne room. “Two...” 

Rather than waiting for a three, Angel immediately turned and slammed his fists, shackles and all, into one of the guards. As the other three started to attack their demon targets as well, Lilah acted on her previous mental promise, driving her foot in between Narwek's legs. With a yelp of pain, the constable staggered back, doubling over.  _Guess his anatomy isn't all that different after all..._

It was only the sound of a throat clearing – one that sounded almost familiar – that stopped her from continuing to go after the demon. Lilah turned towards the source of the sound, and then just stared.

_This is...I certainly didn't see this coming!_

Cordelia Chase, clad in what was essentially a shiny metal bra and a skirt that was somewhat sheer – along with a crown, of all things – sat on a throne, looking suitably regal...even if she was dressed like some slutty actress in a low-quality porno movie.

"You're here?" Cordelia looked down her nose at Lilah, who just smirked back at the new Princess of Pylea.

“Hey guys.” Cordelia then said cheerily to her friends, all four men just staring at her. And of course, Lilah noticed exactly where they were staring.

_Eyes up there, guys..._


	7. Princess Pylea

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Angel the Series.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 7: Princess Pylea

**Throne Room, Palace, Pylea  
May 4th, 2001**

“Cordelia?” Wesley was the first to say it, after getting over the shock he and everyone else – all five of them – was feeling. His voice was hoarse, as if he honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Even Lilah was feeling surprise at seeing who exactly the Pylean 'Princess' was. _What the hell is the Covenant up to?_

“No way!” Next it was Gunn's turn to exclaim, as Constable Narwek started to straighten back up, recovering from recent...trauma. The guards had them all – except Lilah – all held in place. Lilah took advantage of Narwek's situation to edge away from everyone else just a little.

“You're safe?” _And Angel once again states the obvious_ , the Morgan woman thought to herself sarcastically.

“Clearly.” Lilah cut in, rolling her eyes. “Running the show kind of equals safe.”

“It has its positives.” Cordelia agreed, smiling satisfiedly. “I mean, my throne could use a few extra cushions, but not really complaining, because hey – throne!” 

_Sounds like the Cordelia Chase in the files._ Lilah didn't get a chance to say or think anything else, though, as Narwek finally recovered and punched Lilah in the stomach. Letting out a moan of pain, Lilah doubled over, her shackled hands on her midsection. 

“I understand the impulse, but don't do that again without my permission.” Cordelia ordered the Constable imperiously. Lilah was evil and a straight-up bitch, but hey; Cordelia wasn't just going to let that guy beat her up. _If anyone gets to do that, it's me!_

Narwek, who had been about to hit the female cow again for causing him such pain and indignity, instantly stepped back and lowered his hand. “As you command, Majesty.” The words were ground out, every fiber of the Constable's being demanding that he punish the cow further...but the order of the princess of the realm took precedence over his own desires. He placed his hand on his sword instead. “Shall we gut the cows now, so that you might dine on their ignoble flesh, oh most high?”

Cordelia screwed up her face in disgust at that suggestion. _Eating people? That's the first thing that I'm going to get rid of around here. That, and polyester._ What? If she now had her own kingdom to run, she was going to really do some good. Polyester had to be a no. “You're most high,” she pointed to Narwek, “if you think that's gonna happen.” Cordelia reached for a grape from the plate of assorted fruits next to her throne, and popped it into her mouth.

“Cordelia,” Wesley lifted up his hands, the manacles rattling as he did so. “Can you please order something done about these?” While it was phrased as a question, Wesley's tone indicated he was pretty sure of the answer.

“I suppose I could. But shouldn't there be some extended groveling first?” She raised an eyebrow, gesturing a bit towards them.

Lilah rolled her eyes as she stood up straight, hand still on her stomach. _Wesley, I'm going to kill you if you don't get that stupid bitch to stop screwing around like this!_ “Either just have them kill us, or get these stupid things off us.” _I get out of the handcuffs and end up in chains._ If Lilah was inclined to think that way, she might wonder if the universe was trying to tell her something.

As it was, the ex-lawyer was just annoyed at her shitty luck.

“Alright.” Cordelia said cheerily. “Off with their heads!” This was spoke in a grand, momentous tone, completed with an elaborate gesture with one hand. _Channeling the Queen of Hearts?_ After that, all thoughts of snark fled Lilah's mind as swords were drawn, and the lawyer felt Narwek's blade on her neck, pressing almost hard enough to break skin.

“Kidding!” Cordelia corrected the guards. “Put the swords down, and get the chains off my friends...and Lilah.” 

So nice to be included. Lilah managed to find her snark again as the sword left her neck. Resisting the urge to let out a sigh of relief, Lilah instead smirked at Narwek as she held out her wrists. Still scowling, the Constable unlocked the manacles and let them fall to the ground with a loud clatter.

Lilah rubbed at her wrists as the other four were released from their chains. Finally, after four more clatters, Cordelia gestured at the Constable. “You can go now.” Then she turned to and gestured at all the assembled 'advisors' and other courtiers that seemed to be standing around the edges of the room. “And all of you, as well.” That order given, Cordelia stood up from her throne.

Narwek approached her, adopting a respectful tone: “Majesty, I must protest.” He gestured back to the five unchained humans. “To allow dangerous criminals to roam free in your presence? They show no respect for the proper order of things, and do not know their proper place as such cow trash-”

“Yes, we're so dangerous we went and got ourselves captured.” Lilah pointed out, eliciting a glare from Narwek. She looked at Wesley and gestured towards his belt, where his gun holster had been, before it had been confiscated during their capture and imprisonment. 

Wesley got her intent easily enough and looked at Cordelia. “Our things?”

Oh.” Cordelia nodded and looked at Narwek. “Give back anything you took from them, when you arrested them.” The Constable seemed to be about to protest further, but Cordelia wasn't having any more of that. “Don't make me use my important voice.” She glared at him. 

Narwek still hesitated, but only for a moment. He quickly bowed and said, “Your will is my command, Princess.” He nodded to his minions and they fell in behind him, leaving the throne room. The various and sundry demons that were lingering around as courtiers also followed suit, leaving the room empty but for Cordelia, her friends, and Lilah.

Lilah looked at the food, but managed to control herself from running at it – and watched with amusement as Wesley, Lorne and Gunn ran past Cordelia to get at the food. 

“Men.” Lilah told Cordelia, as if that was enough. Though, really, it kind of was – and Cordelia seemed to agree, responding to Lilah with an aggrieved roll of her eyes. 

“What happened?” Angel asked, as Lilah also walked – slowly – towards the food.

“What does it look like?” Cordelia asked the vampire, looking at him. “Some yucky demon guy captured me, made me a slave, sold me to some old demon lady – who had me shovel demon horse poop – and then, after I was brought to the castle, the priests jabbed me with hot pokers for God knows how long. Then, princess!” She wore a somewhat strained smile at that.

“But that makes utterly no sense at all.” Wesley pointed out between mouthfuls of food. “In this world, humans are slaves and chattel. Why make one of them a monarch?” 

“My charm and good looks, duh!” Cordelia replied with a straight face, but then she simply shrugged. “Not a clue. They kept going on about a curse, though.”

At the mention of 'curse', Lorne looked thoughtful. “Oh, boy – you had a vision, didn't you puddin'?”

Cordelia nodded, “Yeah, and can I just say, visions? Not getting any easier.” She frowned. “I mean, I'm still kinda vibrating. Though,” she added in a considering tone, “that could be from the hot pokers.”

“Still missing the connection.” Lilah looked at Lorne, waiting for their resident Pylea expert to enlighten them. Although she wasn't alone in that – all five of them were looking at the anagogic demon for clarification.

“There's this prophecy.” Lorne started. The word 'prophecy' elicited a slight groan from Angel and a sideways look from Wesley. Even Cordelia didn't jump for joy at it. 

_What prophecies crawled up and bit them in the ass?_ Not that Lilah was all that much of a fan of prophecies, either. Still, that was hardly germane right now. She stared at Lorne, waiting for him to get on with it.

Lorne dutifully went on: “Basically, it talks about a holy messiah.” The lounge demon sat down on the throne absently, lounging. “The Covenant has been preaching for generations about the coming of a chosen one, a mysterious being cursed with visions of the future. And when the prophesied one comes, they get the throne and restore the monarchy.” He frowned. “Of course, it's probably not actually going to work out like that.”

“Of course not.” Gunn cut in, laughing. “I mean, Cordelia, the messiah?”

“It could happen.” Cordelia insisted to Gunn, before lightly whacking Lorne in the arm so she'd get off the throne. “And, and it seems to be working out okay now.” Cordelia added. “I mean: throne, princess.” She pointed to her royal chair and then herself. “Kinda equals monarchy. The priests swore me in and everything.”

“Newsflash, 'Princess'. But those priests – the Covenant of Trombli – run this dimension for the Senior Partners.” Lilah grabbed something that looked close to an apple and bit into it. Didn't _quite_ have the same taste, but close enough. She swallowed that piece, then continued. “The same Senior Partners who overthrew and slaughtered the local monarchy in the first place, way back when.”

“The same Senior Partners that run Wolfram and Hart in our world.” Wesley added unnecessarily. “Cordelia. If they're responsible for putting someone like you, with a link to the Powers that Be – the opposition, if not their direct enemy – on the throne, then I highly doubt it bodes well for you. Or for anyone else fighting on the side of good.”

“But – throne! Princess!” Cordelia protested, but she only remained in denial for a few moments. “Fine. Now that you're done raining on my parade, what now?” She looked at them, a new question occurring. “How did you guys even get here?”

“Same way you did.” Gunn answered, sitting down on the steps below the throne. “Opened a portal with the book.”

“Which we seem to have misplaced.” Wesley added in a half-mutter, walking aimlessly in the direction of the door. 

“The portal or the book?” 

“The book.” Lilah answered. “But there has to be some kind of way to open a portal from this dimension back to Earth. It's how the Senior Partners do business.” She took another bite of the fruit, deciding to just think of it as an apple for simplicity's sake. 

“Yes,” Wesley agreed, “but,” he continued, pointing out their problem: “we don't know what that way is, or where we might find it.” Before he could continue on with his next thought, the doors to the throne room opened, and Narwek returned with two guards, each carrying a number of weapons.

“The prisoners' belongings, Majesty.” Narwek ground out, grimacing as his sense of duty warred with racism and annoyance. The guards dropped them all on the floor.

“Thank you.” Cordelia managed to keep a regal smile. “You can go now.” She made a shooing motion. Scowling angrily, Narwek led his forces out of the throne room once again.

“I don't get it. Why are they giving us back our weapons, if they work for the Senior Partners?” Angel approached the pile carefully and selected his broadsword, checking it over as if for dents or blemishes.

“Well, that's the thing, Angel-cake – they don't know who they're really working for. Plus the Constable, he just does whatever he's told. Always has, always will.” Lorne said. “He doesn't have any imagination. Even by the standards of your average Pylean. But as I was saying – I grew up here, and I never knew the Senior Partners were behind the Covenant. Odds are, all Narwek knows is that the priests have declared you the cursed one and given you the throne, so it's his job to obey your commands.”

“Right. Okay. So, Cordelia – they probably want you to feel secure in your position, before they spring whatever they have in mind for you next.” Angel cogitated. Lilah watched him start to say more, then rolled her eyes when she saw the vampire suddenly get distracted. By a mirror – no, more accurately, his own reflection.

“And,” Gunn pointed out, standing up and pacing a little, “so long as we don't let on that we know they're up to something, we got a chance to get out of here.” The black man walked over to the weapons and picked up his axe, giving it a quick few swings. Then he grabbed Wesley's sword and handed it off to the Englishman.

“True.” Wesley agreed. He turned around and looked back at Cordelia. “Do they have some sort of library, or study in the palace?” Wesley went back to the weapons and found his pistol. Lilah, of course, hadn't actually gotten a weapon. They weren't to that level of the trusting yet.

Cordelia shrugged. “I don't know. I guess,” she added, “I mean, they had to get the books they swore me in on from somewhere.”

“Okay, but even if we find a portal-opening book, don't we need one of those inter-dimensional hotspots?” 

“Good point, Gunn.” Wesley checked the clip in his gun – all the bullets seemed to be there, from what Lilah could see. 

“Have Angel and Lorne go look for one.” Lilah suggested to the Englishman. “If you can get that narcissistic ass to stop looking at himself in the mirror for five minutes, of course.” She gestured to the vampire, who was _still_ engrossed by his own reflection. 

As the other four crowded around Angel – and Lorne protested about going to see his cousin and family, but quickly backed down from that at the thought of sticking around his native dimension for any longer than he had to – Lilah just finished her apple, considering.

While she certainly had every intent on helping with the discovery of a way out of this dimension – she didn't want to be stuck here any more than these dumbass white hats did – there might be other things she could put to use in the library, or study, or whatever it was they had around here. Some kind of intelligence that could help her find her mother. Unlikely, but it was certainly within the realm of possibility.

If only Lorne had been able to give her any kind of lead on where Lindsey had stashed her mom, during his reading when she sang for him – but he hadn't. _Gak. What good is reading my destiny, when you can't help me with the one real priority I have apart from staying alive?_ Lilah rolled her eyes. Wolfram and Hart's seers and psychics were a hell of a lot more useful than the ones the good guys seemed to have.

So why the hell were these people still alive, already? 

**Sewage Entrance, Palace, Pylea  
Three Hours Later**

Lilah looked down at the roiling, stinking sewage below, then back up to Wesley. “ _This_ is your plan?”

Wesley looked at her pointedly. Over the the past few hours, he and his people had learned quite a bit about what the priests of the Covenant had had in mind by making Cordelia their Princess. He said, “Well, you can always stay behind and find out what happens when the Groosalugg doesn't have a messiah to Com-Shuk with. Or suffer the priests' wrath-”

“I get your point.” Lilah interrupted. “Still, _this_ is your plan? I'm actually tempted to take my chances.”

Cordelia took a step away from the opening, careful to keep the various items of treasure in her hands from falling in. “I agree with Lilah.” Cordelia furrowed her brow, “and how nuts does that sound? Because it smells like I'll be taking my chances with the Groosalugg.”

“You can do this, Cordelia.” Wesley told the seer. “I'm not any more fond of this option than you are, but the sewage system empties out beyond the castle.” _And thank God the Covenant decided they wanted indoor plumbing._ Lilah thought to herself, as Wesley continued speaking. “It's our only sure bet. Just...hold your breath, alright?”

“Why can't we just use the front door?” While Cordelia wasn't exactly whining, her tone certainly had a nice touch of a 'whine' to it.

“You really think you'll be able to get that booty of yours past all the guards at the front door?” Gunn retorted. At Cordelia's misunderstanding objection, Gunn clarified, pointing to the gold and silver objects in Cordelia's arms. “ _That_ booty.” 

“Oh.” Cordelia looked down at the treasure, then back at the sewage. “Well, yeah, good point. It's just – well, can't I have some pretty things to remember my short-lived reign by?” 

Gunn just rolled his eyes and didn't dignify that with a response. He lowered himself into the muck, letting out groans of disgust as he did so. Once Gunn was in, Wesley turned to Lilah. “Alright, now you.”

Lilah looked at Wesley, then at the sewage, then back at the former Watcher. “Just so we're clear, when this is all over and we're back on Earth? I'm going to hurt you. Badly.”

Wesley just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine. But that can wait until we're back home, alright?” 

Lilah just glared at him. _I mean it, Wyndam-Pryce._ Even if he didn't take her threat seriously, she meant every word.

“Just get in.” Wes gestured impatiently at the slimy liquid.

Keeping her mouth firmly shut, Lilah lowered herself down into the opening, Wesley keeping ahold of her arm. Pinching her nose shut, Lilah let go and dropped down into the sewage. _Definitely going to hurt you, you jackass._

Too bad Wesley hadn't ordered Cordelia to go before Lilah, as once Wes jumped in himself – the forces of the Covenant suddenly showed up, and prevented their 'monarch' from going anywhere.

**Thick Forest, Pylea  
An Hour Later**

Lilah tuned out the debate between Gunn and Wesley about whether or not they were lost. It was fairly obvious that they were, but if the bookworm wanted to try and argue the point with the former gang leader, Lilah could care less about it.

The stench of the sewer systems underneath the palace still clung to her – as it clung to all of them – and especially clung to her hair. Lilah prided herself on her ability to look good regardless of the situation, but after trudging through that slimy muck for what seemed like hours – looking good was not really on the cards for her at the moment. She'd settle for smelling halfway like a human being.

Oh, Lilah had been in sewers before, and more than once – occupational hazard of working at Wolfram and Hart. But compared to what she'd had to go through back at the palace? Sweet as fucking roses.

_That's enough._ Lilah told herself sternly. She had been mentally complaining about going through the sewerage system for what had to be about the last hour, on and off. It was time to just get over it. She could hurt Wesley when they got back home, and she could take a five-hour long shower as well. Or maybe six hours.

Regardless, there were some more important issues at hand, like it or not.

Like why Wesley was suddenly 'shush-ing' Gunn.

“You having a Blair Witch moment?” Gunn just stared at Wesley.

“Something's hunting us.” Wesley answered softly.

“Palace guards?” Gunn moved to stand back to back with Wesley, and Lilah followed suit, coming in a bit closer and keeping her back towards them as well, looking around. All three of them circling slowly, keeping back to back.

“I can't be sure.” Wesley replied softly. “I don't -” 

He was cut off by an angry snarl – one originating from a green, ugly demon with scales and mini-horns jutting out all over its face...wearing... _Angel's clothes?!_...that came out from behind a tree, and lunged at them, knocking them all to the ground – Lilah face first. 

Dazed for a moment at the impact of her forehead on the ground, Lilah got up slowly, the sound of struggle registering all around her. But suddenly, the demon – or maybe some weird variation of Angel – ran off, just as suddenly as it had attacked.

Lilah pulled herself up in time to see the Angel-demon running off after some girl wearing what looked like a burlap sack. _Good, let him eat her. Better her than me, anyway._ Lilah stood up and started to brush the dirt and leaves off herself, out of habit, then – _Oh, what the hell is the point?_ These clothes were getting burned as soon as they got back home, anyway.

“Man, something very freaky is going on here.” Lilah started paying attention to what Gunn and Wesley were saying, as the black man decided to state the obvious.

“We're in a demon dimension.” Lilah pointed out. “The whole situation falls under the category of 'freaky', doesn't it?” Though, Gunn did have a point. “What the hell happened to Angel?” She thought aloud, pulling a leaf and a twig from her hair.

“Good question. Hmm. I rather suspect that Angel's inner demon has wholly taken over.” Wesley answered, scooping some mud into his hand. He moved his hand towards Gunn's injury. Gunn started to protest before Wesley said. “It's okay.” Charles lowered his hand, and Wesley started to pack the mud into the black man's injuries. 

“Vampires are, as you know, hybrid beings,” Wesley continued. “The mind, personality and body of a human, but the spirit, desires and a power of a demon. That's what can make a vampire so much more dangerous than your average warrior demon – they have a greater capacity to plan and adapt.”

“Yeah, and?” Lilah demanded impatiently.

“In our world, the hybrid nature of a vampire is such that all we see of its demonic aspect is the, uh, 'game face', I believe Cordelia calls it. But here,” Wesley patted the mud down on Gunn's wounds, “rather than being one form combined, it would seem that Angel's two natures are divided. The human and the demon are separate, in every sense of the word. Angel must have attempted to access his inner demon, for some reason – and what we just saw was the result...”

_Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I mean, from what I've seen, things are either black or white here; there are no shades of grey, or whatever._ “So, that's what the inner vampire demon really looks like?” Lilah started to look around in consternation, hoping the Angel-demon wouldn't come back anytime soon.

“In its purest form without the human camouflage, yes, I suspect so. It's quite possible, at any rate.” Wesley agreed. The former Watcher helped his friend stand up and put his jacket on. Once Gunn was on his feet, Wesley looked in the direction that Angel had gone. “We need to help him.”

As if to give his words a truly ironic twist, human figures started to come at them from the surrounding forest and drop down from the trees, pointing an assortment of primitive weapons at them – pitchforks, clubs, even just...tree branches. Not a sword or axe among them.

“First, we need to help ourselves out of this.” Lilah pointed out. She then saw how Wesley's hand went to his gun, but he didn't pull it out of its holster. _What the hell are you doing, you **idiot?** Oh, if he doesn't use that damn thing, I'm going to-_

“Am I correct in guessing that you're the rebellion?” Wesley asked the new arrivals. 

“Not seeing any Ewoks or X-Wings.” Gunn muttered. Despite herself, Lilah had to smile at that one.

One of them, seemingly the leader – a bald, muscular-looking man with a grim expression – spoke in answer. “We are. Not that it matters. You won't be able to bring word of our location back to the palace, reconnaissance cow scum.”

“Reconnaissance-?” Wesley started. “You think we're spies? No, look, we've just escaped the palace. We're looking for-”

“No one escapes the palace.” The man replied. “You can surrender now, or you can die here.” Lilah looked at them – there were at least fifteen that she could see, but none of them had a weapon worth the name. And Wesley had a gun. 

“Drop your weapons.” The leader continued.

_Wesley, use the damn gun..._ Instead, Wesley started to lower his sword.

“Wes, what the-” Gunn started anxiously, holding his axe up as one of the rebels started to move towards him. 

“No, Gunn, hear me out. If we want to get out of this dimension alive, all of us – then we're going to need help. I don't think killing these gentlemen is going to benefit us in that endeavor.” He dropped his sword and held up his hands in surrender. Notably, he didn't drop his gun from its holster, and the rebels didn't seem to register it as a weapon.

“This had better work, Wes.” Gunn replied, dropping his axe and raising his hands in turn. 

Fuming darkly, but with no weapon to drop, Lilah just put her hands up. _I don't believe this..._

“Tie them up.” The leader commanded, gesturing at their hands.

_Okay. Screw hurting you, Wes. If we get out of this alive, I'm going to **kill** you - slowly and painfully._


	8. Rebel Yell

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. 

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

This is far shorter than I would have liked (I was really hoping to cover the entire episode in this chapter), but given the huge delay...I had to get something out. I promise I'm _trying_ to pick up the pace, but with RL being what it is, I can make no promises as to whether my output will get better.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 8: Rebel Yell

**Rebel Camp, Pylean Plains  
May 4th, 2001**

The motley mess that was the human resistance against the demons ruling Pylea were assembled around their three victims – humans, like them, but caught coming from the direction of the castle. Scum, working for the Covenant, therefore; traitors to their race. Too many accepted their role as cows...it was why freedom wasn't theirs yet...

“For the crime of collaboration with the Covenant,” The leader intoned with all the ceremony he could muster, speaking to the bound prisoners, “You are hereby sentenced to death.” 

Though she knew it was counter productive, Lilah was busy itemizing the exact order in which she would flay Wesley's flesh from his bones and then dismember him once they arrived in the afterlife, after these idiots killed them. White hat or not, there had to be a special place in Hell for stupidity of the magnitude he'd displayed back in the forest. Had to be.

She was pulled from her vicious thoughts by Wesley doubling down. “No, we are not collaborators!” He insisted. “We're not even from around here!”

“Sure, because they're going to believe that, Wes. If we were collaborating with the Covenant, we'd certainly insist we weren't, wouldn't we?” Lilah rolled her eyes, the effect ruined by the fact that her head was in a stock. _Now all I need is for people to throw rotten tomatoes at me..._

“Not helping, Lilah, so why don't you shut up?!” Gunn cut in. 

“Silence!” One of the other rebels demanded. “Do not speak, reconnaissance cow scum!” He looked to the executioners. “On my count of three.” The executioners readied their weapons in place over Lilah, Wesley and Gunn's necks.

“Forgive me, Gunn,” Wesley told his friend, apparently uninterested in absolution from Lilah, “I should never have opened my mouth.”

“Little late for that,” Lilah drawled again, retreating into natural habits as death now seemed imminent. She was terrified beyond belief – she'd gotten out of Wolfram and Hart with her skin intact after Lindsey's promotion...and now she was going to die here, at the hands of a rag tag collection of idiots that made Angel look competent. Furious was better than fear, and if she was going to die, she wasn't going to do it with desperation in her voice. Wesley could handle that. “And it's a pity how that didn't occur to you in the first place.”

_I'm Lilah fucking Morgan. I'm better than that._ Terrified? Yes. Resigned? Yes. But damn her soul back into the claws of the Senior Partners if she was going to show any of that. 

“Don't worry, I've got a plan,” Gunn told them in an earnest, serious tone.

“Oh thank god! What is it?” Wesley asked as the countdown began with a 'one'. 

“We die horribly and painfully, you two go to Hell, and I spend eternity in the arms of baby Jesus.” Gunn replied. 

_Well, that's a really swell plan, sure._ Even though Lilah had to grant that it was better than any plan she could come up with. It was a pity she hadn't even been raised Catholic, or she might have started confessing her sins right then, on the off chance God was listening. 

Wesley's face and tone fell. “Oh.”

Lilah took one final breath...and as three was called out, waited for death. 

But it never came. 

She heard the sounds of hoofbeats, shouts...fighting. Lilah saw the bodies of one of the executioners dead on the ground, a arrow in the chest. _Do we owe our lives to Robin Hood or to the Pylea-stone Cops?_ The latter, it seemed. The rebels were fighting the demon guards, and Wesley and Gunn were both on their feet, both trying to get away. Lilah pushed herself up, the wooden stock around her neck and her bound hands making it quite difficult, but she managed. 

In the confusion, she lost sight of Wesley and Gunn, trying to move away between human rebels and Pylean soldiers...

Snarling, a Pylean demon grabbed at her, aiming to pull her into a better angle for decapitation. Kicking at him, Lilah struggled from his grip – the stocks around her neck slammed into the demon's face, knocking him to the ground. Crouching down, she cut the ropes on her hands with the guardsman's sword and picked it up. The weight and style of the weapon was unfamiliar – Lilah knew the basics of how to fight, but she hadn't spent much time in Wolfram and Hart's self-defense classes. Hadn't seemed much point, to be honest.

_After all, look at all the effort Lindsey put into them, and he still lost his hand to Angel._ Still, she brandished the weapon, managing to keep the demons at bay just enough...to not get killed. That was just about it. 

But it was all it needed. Still trying to get away from the camp, Lilah saw Gunn and Wesley fighting – _fighting_ – the Covenant soldiers, using the stocks as blunt instruments like she had. 

Lilah stayed out of the fight as best she could of the rebels, and the main battle between her and the Pyleans. Soon enough, though, the battle was over, with the surviving Imperial Guard fleeing. 

With the battle one, the leader approached Wesley and Gunn – who hadn't managed to get their hands unbound during the battle. “They did not come for us.” It wasn't a question. “They came for you.” Again, not a question. “Why?” _Finally, a question_.

“Because they know we want to rescue the princess.” Wesley answered. “Something they very much don't want to happen.”

“Rescue the princess? What from?” The leader inquired. “She's the princess of the realm. She has everything she could possibly want!”

“Including her freedom? No. If she isn't rescued from the castle, and soon, then she'll be forced to mate with the Groosalugg.” Wesley explained, looking the leader in the eye, mustering up as much gravity and dignity as he could, given his neck and hands. Gunn nodded in agreement with Wesley as the Englishman spoke.

Another one of the rebels nodded, “And that would fulfill one of the Covenant's biggest prophecies...and consolidate their power. There'd be no stopping them...”

“Let me guess.” Lilah called out from where she was. “The Deathwok and other demon clans aren't very fond of the Covenant, all things considered? Since they're just priests, and not warriors or monarchs?”

“Exactly.” The leader answered. “But if the prophecy is fulfilled, and the visions from the Powers That Be are absorbed from the cursed one, then they shall rule through a warrior monarch – through the Groosalugg. He's always been little more than a puppet for Silas and the others.” He looked to Lilah, “But if you really are otherworlders, how would you know that?”

“It was a guess.” Lilah admitted. “The truth is, I'm...familiar with the powers behind the Covenant. That's how they handle warrior clans.” Lilah had read about and heard about this sort of thing happening in at least a half-dozen hell dimensions.

“With the Deathwok and the Gathwok and all the other clans completely under their influence, the Covenant's forces would be able to hunt us down and kill us all, however hard we fought.” The leader added. 

“And we don't want that to happen any more than you do.” Gunn said, his expression managed to be even more serious than Wesley's.

“Then you spoke truly, even though I did not believe you.” The leader said after a moment, “We are on the same side. Release them.” He nodded to some of his men, and Wesley and Gunn's hands were unbound, and the stocks removed from their necks. “Though their hands were tired and their necks bared, they fought with us.” Lilah was about to interrupt – her hands were free but she couldn't get the stocks off – but one of the rebels also came over to remove her stocks. The leader approached Wesley, “I'm ashamed,” he said in a lower voice. Lilah barely heard him as she moved towards Gunn and Wesley.

“We nearly cut your heads off.” The leader continued.

“Yea. About that.” Lilah cut in, moving to stand a bit behind Wesley and Gunn “Just what were you-”

Wesley looked back at her, his lips in a thin, no nonsense line, gesturing his hand at her, fingers up, to shut up. Lilah fell silent mid-sentence. Satisfied, Wesley turned back to the rebel leader. “You were just doing your job.” 

_Job? Job?_ She'd spent so much time in the last few hours planning on just how to hurt Wesley when this was over that it was starting to lose its luster...still, one more reason for it, now. 'Just doing your job'. Lilah swore inside her head, _My ass he was just doing his job!_

“You are all three of you free to go.” At those words, the rebel leader stepped aside and the three of them took the opening, moving away. As they passed through the camp, the leader proclaimed: “Five cheers for the otherworlders!”

“Ooh,” Wesley remarked with a slight smile, “In this world you get five.” 

“So I'm thinkin' our first job,” Gunn said after a moment, the three of them still walking as the rebels chanted 'Brave warriors' five times, raising their weapons as they did so, “Is to find Angel.”

“Yes.” Wesley agreed.

“Find Angel? Given what he's like right now? Yeah, there's a great idea.” Lilah cut in. “Are you freaking kidding me? I think our priority should be _avoiding_ Angel, at least until he's back in control of his inner vampire!”

“Yeah, guess that's a good point. I mean, last time we saw him, he did have a funny look on his face.” Gunn agreed with the understatement of the century. “Kind of a rip-out-your-guts-now, ask-questions-later look.”

“Exactly.” Lilah gestured at Gunn with an open hand. “Which is exactly why we need to go in the _opposite_ direction from Angel. Or else just get out of this damn dimension altogether.” The last suggestion was made with the sarcasm of someone who knew it was never going to happen. Besides, in the long term, leaving Angel behind probably wouldn't serve her needs either.

“We aren't just leaving him here.” Wesley said with finality, and Gunn made no sound or move of protest. “And even if that was an option, the only way we can leave this world would be with the books that are still in the Covenant's possession. And we need to get Cordelia, who is in the castle. Not to mention,” He added, “That Lorne is still somewhere around, and we need to find him too.”

“That's putting an awful lot on our plate.” Gunn looked back at the rebels. “You know, these guys may have won a skirmish here...but they've got nothing on the Covenant.” He shook his head, “I'm not thrilled at the idea of just leaving them to die.”

“I can't say I am either.” Wesley agreed softly. “And they would come in handy if we need to incapacitate Angel...and our interests where Cordelia is concerned do align.”

“So we get a bunch of expendables to help us do the job?” Lilah smirked. “Well. That's the best idea I've heard yet out of either of you.”

“They're not cannon fodder, Lilah. I've no intention of simply using them as -” He looked at Gunn, “What was that term you used last week? 'Meat shields'?”

“Yea,” Gunn nodded. “That's the one.” He looked at Lilah, “I'm not wanting to leave them to die, but I don't plan on leading them to die either.”

_Too bad. Way I figure it, it'll have to happen. No way everyone will make it out of this alive._ And the rebels were more expendable, as far as her needs were concerned, than Wesley or Gunn were. 

“Fine.” She conceded, raising her hands halfway, palms facing them, “You've made your point. Let's get started then.” She gestured widely back towards the rebels, “After you two.”


	9. Have Fun Storming The Castle

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Angel. This is made for fun, not for profit. By a fan for the enjoyment of other fans.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

I appreciate that there is a lot of rehashing of dialogue from the AtS episode here – a lot. But what's important about this chapter is the way Wesley's actions change Lilah's perceptions – so most of what happens here is from Lilah's POV, her observing and having internal dialogue with herself.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 9: Have Fun Storming The Castle

**Rebel Camp, Pylea  
May 4th, 2001**

“If we're going to enlist them to help us, we're going to need something to get them on our side.” Wesley said to Gunn and Lilah, looking back at the motley collection that was the rebel force. “To get them to agree to help us on our timetable – and help us locate Angel.”

“Oh, please, that's easy.” Lilah commented, sarcastically. “Angel's easily the best fighter they can get their hands on. Just make sure they understand that, and they'll be falling over themselves to find that undead narcissist.”

“She's got a point.” Gunn agreed. “Well, not 'bout the narcissist thing. But the vamp definitely got game, way I figure these guys'd see it. Hell, you could also show them just how useful that gun is.” 

“Not worth the wasted bullet.” Wesley disagreed. “I'd prefer to save it for the actual fight.”

“Oh, so you actually plan on using that particular weapon?” Lilah cocked an eyebrow. “Gee. That's a change of pace.”

Wesley looked over at her, his face perfectly English in its polite expressionless-ness. “Yes Lilah. I do intend to use it - in due course. At the appropriate juncture. In the fullness of time. I've no qualms against using it, you understand - but jumping straight to killing isn't how I prefer to operate.”

“It's not how I want to do things either. Killing people is so messy, after all.” Lilah explained, brushing an errant strand of hair away from her face. God, she needed fifteen kinds of fucking shower right now. “But unlike you people, I can tell when killing is the best option - and I don't screw around like you do when it comes to killing.”

“Meaning you're evil, and don't value anything but your own skanky ass?” Gunn shot at her, his tone as vicious as the words would suggest.

 _Skanky?_ Lilah shook her head a little, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Crude, but yea. True.”

“Just so long as we're clear about your priorities.” Wesley told her dryly. He looked back towards the rebel camp. “I suppose we should head back then.”

By the time they were in easy earshot of the camp, the rebels were already at work with their 'planning'.

“You still want to storm the castle gates?” 

“Yes,” another of the rebels replied – the one that had called for them to have five cheers for Wesley. _Really should learn their names,_ Lilah thought to herself. It would make things tidier, and Lilah most definitely preferred things to be neat and tidy – properly organized and all in its place. Becoming a lawyer had merely enhanced that natural propensity of hers. “We have to show them-”

“We can't defeat them!” another rebel cut in – from what Lilah had seen, it was those two who seemed to be the leaders of the rebellion – or at least the ones who were loudmouthed about what they wanted to do. Lilah watched from the outskirts as the rebel stood up, looking his aggressive compatriot in the eye. “They have the power, they have the wealth. And we have no plan.” 

_Well, maybe I was wrong. I wouldn't have thought **any** of them would have this kind of foresight, given their trial by hurry with us..._ Lilah mentally increased their chances of getting out of this alive by a few percentage points. That even one of the rebels had this kind of common sense was an accomplishment of its own.

“I say storm the gates!” The other rebel shot back, insisting on the same point, apparently deaf to what had just been said.

“If you do,” Wesley told them, before they could argue any further, walking into the small circle that was the rebels, “They'll cut you down. You can't wage a frontal attack against a stronger opponent.” All the other rebels turned towards Wesley. “This kind of battle can only be won through guerrilla warfare.” 

The brunette woman could see how every single rebel had a blank look of non-comprehension on his or her face. _Good grief. Do they simply not understand the concept...which is believable, given the black and white mentalities here in Pylea...or just not the technical term?_ Lilah hoped it was the latter. If the former...well, then she'd have to drop their odds again. 

Anyway, Wesley was right. Storming the castle wouldn't be a viable option. Not in a frontal attack, anyway. Now, how to explain what the English ass meant...

Wesley drew in closer towards the Pyleans by a few steps and explained: “By being sneaky. You create a diversion, and then strike at several different points at once.” He made an effort to use his hands to demonstrate what he meant. “While they're looking ahead, you come from behind.”

A semblance of recognition dawned on the aggressive one. “And kill their leader.”

“Yes. In order to defeat the enemy, that's usually required.” Wesley confirmed. 

“Silas – the head priest.” The other rebel 'leader' said, nodding. “It is a good plan.”

“I agree.” The aggressive one nodded himself. 

_Okay, now we're getting somewhere._ Wesley still owed her several times over for all the shit he'd pulled so far, but now...well, he didn't owe her for this. If he kept this up, Lilah figured, they might just make it out of here in one piece. _Just so long as he doesn't get too bogged down in trying to keep these idiots alive. I...wait a minute, what's this?_

Moving towards Wesley, the aggressive one held up his sword, handing it over to Wesley. “You shall lead us!”

Lilah blinked a moment, as if that would – okay, this particular development she hadn't expected. Just handing Wesley the leadership role? _I'll grant he's already proven he's better than Angel at the whole leadership thing..._ She looked at Wesley, considering him a moment as the former Watcher protested the mantle of leadership. Huh, that was kinda unexpected. Leadership was an important part of the Watcher curriculum, given their need to control their Vampire Slayer, but large scale tactics? 

_Then again, Wesley was probably the sort of prissy little kid who fought historical battles again and again with toy soldiers..._

Anyway, Wesley was apparently a unifying factor – even the less aggressive of the pair seemed to be in favor of the British man taking over. “No. No. You fought well, and the Covenant hates you. And you know the princess.” The unsaid words were clear: You have as much invested in this fight as we do.

“And you have a plan.” The aggressive one added. “Besides, our previous leader is dead.” He half-forced the sword into Wesley's hands. “Hail to our new leader!”

The other rebels – all of them – took up the chorus, raising their weapons, “Hail!”

Wesley looked over at Gunn, his voice thin and nervous for a moment, “Why do people keep putting me in charge of things?”

Gunn shook his head, “I have no idea.” He sounded as if he believed it. The rebels let loose with another “Hail!” as Lilah rolled her eyes and answered the question.

“Because in both situations, you're better than the other alternatives. Just don't let it go to your head, Pryce; I already get enough of that crap from Angel.” She looked to the hailing rebels and interrupted. “Just a moment. What do we call you guys, anyway? What are your names?”

**Rebel Camp, Pylea  
May 4th, 2001**

The rebels, as it turned out, did have a map of the castle – a surprisingly good one, in Lilah's view, given the level of incompetence they'd mostly shown up until now.

“The Groosalugg is our most formidable opponent.” Wesley started by stating the obvious, his eyes focused on the map. “So we'll need to get him out of the castle.” He looked at the rest of the rebels. “If challenged to fight, he has to accept – correct?”

“Yes.” Sasha – the more aggressive one – confirmed. “As champion of the realm, he must. But no man can defeat the Groosalugg.”

“Sure, but defeating him is less important than keeping him busy.” Lilah replied. “As long as he's in the castle-” She shrugged. 

“She's right.” Wesley agreed. “Exactly how he'll be dealt with is something we'll have to worry about later. But once he's out of there, we have a chance at entering the castle and actually surviving. We'll create diversions – here, here and here.” He pointed to spots on the map. “While they're responding to all those, a few of us can scale the back wall, where their defenses are weakest. With the majority of the Imperial Guard occupied, it shouldn't be that hard to penetrate inside the castle."

“I wouldn't split my crew up this much, if I was leading this charge.” Gunn second-guessed Wesley.

“Really. So, tell me – did your crew attack well fortified positions defended by professional soldiers?” Lilah mocked. “Fighting vampires on the streets of L.A. Isn't the same thing as-”

“Lilah, shut up.” Wesley turned back towards Gunn. “You may have a point. But I'm leading this charge.” Unwilling to continue posturing, Wesley turned back to Sasha. “Tell me about the killing device.”

Sasha handed him a detailed sketch. Lilah looked at it with interest. “It sends a signal to the collar worn by every slave in the land.”

“What kind of signal?”

The other rebel, Bartok – answered Gunn's question. “Blows their heads off.”

“That's a signal.” Lilah agreed. “But Pylea's got too many slaves to do something that drastic in response to a rebel uprising. Someone has to make that decision. It's an endgame weapon.” 

“Silas, the head priest. He'd be the one to make the decision.” Bartok shrugged. 

She looked at Sasha. “Where does he keep it?”

“According to our informant in the castle, here.” Sasha pointed on the map. 

Lilah nodded. “Then you're going to want to take that room. A scorched earth outcome is SOP for any operation the Senior Partners start losing. And if Silas starts losing-”

“He'll activate it.” Wesley agreed. “Instant genocide. We'll need to make sure we either kill him, or destroy the device first.”

“The room will be well guarded, even if-”

Angel's familiar voice cut in behind them. “Unlike this place.” 

Lilah turned and saw the rebels surround Angel and – was that the girl he'd gone and chased off after when he'd been full demon-mode? It was. Instantly the rebels surrounded him, from all sides. 

“Great. Everyone's favorite Undead American is back. is actually back?” Lilah mocked the vampire, who was looking a bit worse for wear. 

“It's alright.” Wesley held up his hands. “It's alright, all of you, calm down. He's a friend.”

Sasha looked sideways at Bartok. “I'm glad we were keeping watch.”

Gunn shrugged, “He's Angel. He does that. Gotta tell ya, keeping watch doesn't do much to stop him.” Then the black man pointed at the twig-thin girl. “How'd she do that?”

“She's Fred. She does that too.” Angel said, as if that was enough explanation.

“Fred- Winifred?” Wesley said, his eyes on the girl. “The girl from Cordy's vision?” Unnoticed, Sasha gave orders to a group of rebels to check the perimeter. 

Angel nodded, then introduced them to this 'Fred'. “These are my friends, Wesley and Gunn. And this is Lilah. She's-”

“Not his friend.” Lilah replied. “I just tag along for the sheer fun and excitement!”

“Her super power is being annoying.” Gunn told her. 

The wild-looking girl giggled a little at that, smiling. She waved at all of them and said, “Hiya.”

Wesley gestured back at the rebels. “These are the rebels. We've joined forces to try to get Cordelia out of the Palace.”

“They've made Wes their general.” Gunn told the new arrivals, slapping his friend lightly on the shoulder.

Wesley nodded. “Yes. I'm not entirely sure why, but there it is.”

“Well, you're the best choice for it, Wes.” Angel agreed. “I'm – I can't even keep control, here...” He looked at Gunn. “I'm sorry – I'm... I'm ashamed at what I did to you.”

“It's kind of a crazy place here.” Gunn told him, with a certain something in his voice – not forgiveness...but understanding. _Not much else for him to do, I guess._ “Tellin' ya: the sooner we all get outta here, the better.”

“Fred here should be able to help us with that. She knows a lot about portals.” Angel said, gesturing to the girl.

**Rebel Camp, Pylea  
May 4th, 2001**

The plan was made. The attack was due to start soon. Lilah watched Wesley, sitting alone by one of the campfires, staring into the fire, the sword in front of him, hilt against his shoulder. He seemed to be...thinking about something, over and over again. Lilah wished she could figure out just what he was thinking.

She could guess...but Wesley's expression was unreadable. 

“I'm only gonna say this once.” Lilah watched Gunn come and stand next to Wesley. “Those guys you send to create those diversions are gonna die.” 

_Gee. You think he hasn't figured that out yet?_ Lilah thought snarkily. _Still, you white hats are so stupid and sentimental sometimes, I suppose Mister British Flag Up His Ass actually might not have..._

Wesley's next words surprised her – not for what they meant...but for the...heartless way he said them. Heroes weren't supposed to talk like that, now, were they?

“Yes they are.” Wesley stood and looked Gunn in the eye. “But then again, you try not to get anybody killed, you wind up getting everybody killed.” Wesley saw Lilah staring at him, before he turned to the rest of the rebels. “Get ready to move out.” He then walked over towards Angel.

Wesley's tone was flat, unyielding. _But this isn't expandability he's leaning on. And he knows it...is he even a White Hat anymore?_ It made her wonder. Even though Lilah wasn't really sure what about.

“What do you want me to do?” Angel asked Wesley.

“Go to the village. Publicly challenge the Groosalugg... and kill him, if you have to.” Wesley sheathed the sword.

“Kill their undefeated champion?” Angel stared at Wes, shocked.

 _What? Feeling inadequate, Angel, given how often you're defeated?_ Lilah thought mockingly.

“I can't do that without turning into the beast.” The vampire finished up, looking down and away.

 _Oh, get over yourself, you pathetic excuse for a vampire!_ How this **_thing_** could be so squeamish at times...and yet coldly willing to lock her and over a dozen of her co-workers in a basement with two psychotic vampires...

“I know.” Wesley's response was cold, unconcerned. 

Angel gave him a 'look' and then said, “When I fired you guys...the reason I did that – the darkness was coming out in me.” 

_No, you fired them because you decided you could do a one-man show against Wolfram and Hart._ Lilah thought to herself in disgust. _Well, either that or you developed a temporary case of the terminal stupids..._

“I didn't want you near it. The thing that comes out here – it's ten times worse.” Angel paused. Were he any other man...were he technically a man, Lilah would have expected him to lick his lips nervously. “Wes- I do this...you know I won't come back from it.”

“Yes you will.” 

_Liar._ Lilah didn't believe Wesley's certainty for a minute. The man wasn't stupid. Lilah knew, and she was sure that Wesley also knew, that once the inner demon took over? There wasn't going to be any coming back, not this time. It was a miracle Angel had regained his human form even once... 

Nonetheless Wesley said with seeming conviction, “I know you, Angel. We know you. We know you're a man with a demon inside. Not the other way around.” _Poetic._ “We know you have the strength to do what needs to be done, and you _will_ come back to us.”

Damn. Wesley's pep-talk must have actually accomplished something, somewhere inside that simple-minded undead brain. Lilah bore witness as the two men looked at each other for a long moment, as if a silent understanding between them had been reached.

Fred looked up at Angel, “I could help you. I know how to prepare the challenge torch.” As the Texan girl – with that accent, she couldn't be anything else – spoke, Wesley reached across and placed a hand on Angel's shoulder.

 _Damn it. He's showing all the right moves. He actually knows how to get to people._ Wesley was...confusing. He was a White Hat, but was coldly willing to kill her without a second thought – though really, all of them were. While she'd been able to shame Angel when it had seemed like she'd been about to torture her...did Wesley care about that? She wasn't sure any longer. Sometimes, he seemed to be this ruthlessly goal-oriented individual...and the rest of the time he was squeamish, and next to useless. Was one an act, and one the real him? 

The old saying among the women in her family went something like, you scratch beneath a man's surface, all you'll find is more surface. So what was Wesley's surface?

“You'll come back.” Wesley repeated himself, voice firm. Angel nodded, and Wesley turned away as the vampire left with Fred.

“Do you really think he'll come back?” 

Wesley didn't answer Gunn. Not in so many words. “I need him to think he will, at any rate.” 

Gunn just stood there, falling behind Wesley as the Englishman made his way after the rest of the rebels. 

Lilah quickly moved to reach Wesley's side. “My, my. I honestly didn't know you had it in you.” She murmured appreciatively.

“I'm in no mood for games, Lilah.” Wesley told her tonelessly.

“This isn't a game. I'm actually trying to compliment you.” To her surprise, the words were almost genuine.

“For what?” Wesley looked over at her, disgust written across his face. “For being as heartless and cruel as you? Willing to lie and send people to their deaths to ensure my own survival?”

“No, don't be silly. I know you're not doing this for the same self-centered motives I'd have, if they'd put _me_ in charge of this mess.” Lilah smiled. “I'm just amazed you had it in you – to be this pragmatic. Because, let's face it, you're supposed to be a hero. Right? Heroes don't send people to their deaths that way. Heroes don't-”

“I'm not the hero of this story, Lilah.” Wesley interrupted her, glaring briefly in her direction. “That's Angel's job description. I just do what needs to be done.”

**Outside the Imperial Palace, Pylea  
May 4th, 2001**

Lilah crouched just behind Wesley as they watched the main gate. The announcement that Angel had challenged the Groosalugg had drawn a few guards, either towards the fight or at least off their posts a bit. Then the demons responded to more attacks – on the north, on the south...many of the guards immediately left their positions, leaving far fewer on the main gate.

Wesley ducked back further into the bush cover as several Imperial Guards ran past their hiding spot to move towards the attack sites – the gate was still guarded, but with less vigor...

Wesley waited a few moments, as the sounds of battle reached them...the he nodded to Bartok. The Pylean rebel nodded back, somewhat hesitantly. It was obvious he had figured out this was one battle he almost certainly wouldn't survive. But still, his weapon brandished high, the man charged out into the open at the guards, “Death to the State!” His cry drew the guards' attention to him, and those demons then ran towards him – weapons were locked, and battled joined at the front gate too.

Lilah could not help watching the progress of this third diversion, but Wesley was looking away, already moving. Lilah quickly followed him, Gunn and a handful of other rebels. The rear of the castle awaited. And as the battle raged, over the walls they went, right under the metaphorical noses of the distracted guards. 

Once they were in, the objective was clear. Silas. Well, Silas and the slave collar exploding device.

The group made it as far as the upper levels of the castle when they saw the two priests standing just ahead – hidden just out of sight as they were, the humans heard, and knew they'd found Silas.

“My lord! Rebels have reached the castle itself!” one of the demon lieutenants said hurriedly. 

“That's him.” Lilah's hands went to her sword. Good with it? No. Still not really. But she was more than willing to use it.

“Go!” Wesley ordered, but none of them really needed for him to say it. They charged at him, but already Guardsmen were coming in the way as Silas ducked back, escaping.

Swords clashed - Gunn was quickly forced back several paces, but Wesley was holding his own. He was forced to deal with two guardsmen and one sword, but then drew his gun to even the odds a bit.

BANG! BANG!

 _Guess Wes has that well in hand._ Lilah swung her sword somewhat wildly at one of the demons menacing Gunn – the blow glanced off the guard's helmet, but it was enough of a distraction for Gunn to start pressing forward. Wesley drove his blade into one of the guards and caught the falling demon's sword, spinning to target another guard coming in from behind.

Lilah quickly lost track of the melee of blades and bodies, not to mention Wesley's gunshots, and merely swung at anything that wasn't human, barely keeping her head in the fight. By the time it was over – and it had to have been merely thirty seconds, if that – Lilah was sure she'd scored no kills, even if she had no clear recollection of what had happened in the jumble that had been the fight.

Oh, well, what the hell. She was still alive, and that was basically all that mattered.

“Just a little farther. We have to stop him from activating the device!” Wesley shouted. They ran down another hall, and through a few rooms...

They reached the chamber, Silas' study, where the device was kept. Lilah saw Cordelia in one corner of the room, half-hunched over, Silas standing over the device, hand almost on the jewels that must activate it...

“You're a little late.” Silas said, turning his gaze from Cordelia to smirk at them. Lilah tightened her grip on her weapon as they all drew up short – then stopped any planned moves as she saw Cordelia. _Sometimes, the vision girl surprises me._ Now was one of those times.

Wesley lowered his sword and handed it to Sasha. “Stand down.” He took a step towards Silas, clearly intent on distracting him.”You don't have to do this.”

“I don't have to.” Silas agreed calmly, hand still held over the crystals. “But I'm going to.” 

“And who's going to do all the work” Lilah asked with a smirk, getting Silas's attention. “I mean, let's face it; demon slave owners, being forced to do the same menial labor which their dead slaves used to do? You'll have a mob outside, howling for your blood inside of a month!” 

“Foolish female cow. We shall acquire new slaves from beyond the kingdom's borders.” Silas kept talking, even as Cordelia moved towards him, an Axe in hand, slowly raising it up, “But first, you and your damned cow Princess will go to-”

 _Go where?_ Lilah thought with a smirk as Silas was cut off – permanently, his head flying from his shoulders.

Cordelia looked at the severed head, “Your cow princess is tired of hearing you yak, Padre.”

“Nice goin'.” Gunn congratulated her warmly. 

“These guys stay dead without a head?” She asked Sasha.

“Oh, yes.”

“Good.” Cordelia looked to Lilah. “Still alive?”

“It's my talent.” Lilah confirmed, lowering her sword as well. “You know, I think you should have insulted him _before_ you killed him. More dramatic that way.”

“Always a critic, Lilah.”

**The Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
May 6th, 2001**

In the end, there had been a day of celebration for the new order – Slavery ended, the collar-exploding machine had been destroyed, plus the Covenant officially disbanded, 'Groo' the new King of Pylea, a dimension that now recognized humans and demons as equals; and was heading for riots and economic depression in the not-so-distant future, according to Gunn's somewhat jaded view on the matter. 

As it had turned out, though, figuring out how to open a portal back to L.A. hadn't been as easy as they'd hoped. But with the help of Fred – who'd turned out to be a math genius freak, if more than a little nuts – they had eventually figured it out. 

Perhaps unsurprisingly, of them all, Cordelia had almost been reluctant to go and leave her royal status (plus the hunky new boyfriend) behind – but none of them really wanted to stay. Even the so-called Princess of the realm quite desperately wanted a shower.

And so, they'd driven through the portal – albeit, right into Caritas. Lorne hadn't been happy about that, but he was too ecstatic to be back in L.A. to start demanding money for fixing the damage to to his night club. Not right now, anyway.

Lilah had mostly been quiet all the way back to the hotel. She had some strips to take out of Wesley's hide, yes, but what she needed right now more than that was an industrial-strength shower and a good night's sleep. All the rest could wait until tomorrow. So she only half-listened to Cordelia talking to Fred about tacos, and soap. 

“Yo – that portal jumping is a fun ride.” Gunn said with a smile as they entered the garden in front of the Hyperion's front entrance. He gestured at Angel and Wesley knowingly. “We sell it to a theme park, we could get paid.”

“For once.” Lilah offered with a smirk. 

Wesley looked at her. “That reminds me. Your rent's due tomorrow.”

“Oh, well, that reminds _me_. Your ass-kicking for everything you put me through in Pylea is due tomorrow, Pryce. And eye-gouging? It's an optional extra I'm definitely considering!”

Ignoring their bickering, Angel forced his way past them all to the front door. “Okay, can I say it?” He spoke as if they knew what 'it' was. “I want to say it.”

“Say what?” Wesley asked, confused for a half a moment, before Angel opened the doors with both hands and walked in:

“There's no place like-” Angel's voice trailed off, and they all drew to a stop. 

Wesley and Cordelia's smiles and good cheer vanished in an instant. A red-haired young woman, probably the same age as Cordelia, sat on a couch. Lilah couldn't place her.

“Willow?” Angel's voice was a far cry from what it had been scant seconds ago...worried? Afraid? She couldn't quite tell...

“What's-” Cordelia started. 

Willow stood up, her expression...

Well, sad wasn't it exactly, but it was a start. Crushed, or buried under an ocean of sorrows, seemed more appropriate.

“It's Buffy.” Angel said softly, offering a name Lilah did recognize. Angel closed his eyes a moment, then opened them.

_So, what happened in Sunnydale?_


	10. Down an Angel

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Angel. I'm just borrowing the characters that other people own/created in the interests of telling a story that I hope is enjoyable to others.

Thanks to Starway Man, my Beta

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 10: Down an Angel

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
May 16th, 2001**

In Lilah Morgan's view, the last ten days since they'd all returned from Pylea had been...interesting.

That Buffy Summers, Slayer Extraordinaire was dead was a bit of a shock, but hardly a surprise. Slayers died young, and they died violently. It was pretty much part of the job description, and it didn't bother Lilah at all to learn that that little girl was dead.

That Angel had reacted badly to that news was also not a surprise.

What _had_ been a surprise was how Angel had reacted – rather than simply going to his room to brood and/or sulk, or blame himself for what had happened, or going all suicidal and trying to go down in a blaze of glory in some pointless fight, or any number of other things that had crossed her mind...

Angel had instead decide to go to a monastery in Tibet. A spiritual retreat to work through his grief, according to Wesley.

As far as Lilah had been concerned, though, Angel was just taking his brood international, and leaving his friends to fend for themselves. The rest of the White Hats hadn't found that very funny.

_Which I, personally, just don't get. Does being a 'hero' warp your sense of humor or something?_

Lilah shook her head at that thought, as she made her way down the stairs into the Hyperion's lobby.

Ever since their return from Pylea, Lilah had pretty much been given free reign throughout the hotel. Something which, while something of a let down from all the open space in Pylea, was nonetheless a massive improvement over being locked up in her own room. 

She was even allowed to leave the hotel, though she rarely took that option up – too much risk that she'd be spotted by someone from the firm. By now, Wolfram and Hart had to know where she was; but the way Lilah saw it, Lindsey wasn't going to do a thing to her as long as the other half of the files she'd stolen remained well hidden and out of the White Hats' hands. Lindsey had two ways to get at her, but if he actually used either one, both his career and his life were over.

The problem remained everyone else in Special Projects. Taking Lilah out would be a nice feather in their cap, and removing Lindsey as collateral damage would just be icing on the cake – everyone needs a bigger office, right?

_Not that the Senior Partners, or even the local managing partners, will be all that thrilled about the backlash from my deadman switch release..._ Lilah was fairly confident that anyone who killed her – and by doing so, caused all those files to go public – would be severely punished by upper management. But that would be cold comfort to her. After all, she'd be dead.

So Lilah had made the decision that she simply wouldn't leave the hotel much, while she was working on a solution to her problems. Indeed, she'd only left once in the last ten days, and that was as part of a case for Angel Investigations.

She'd been rather surprised when the others had been leaving, and Wesley turned to her and asked if she was coming. In response to her surprise at the question, the British man had pointed out that she'd said she wanted to join them. That did mean actually joining them, including when they went out to fight the demon in Cordelia's latest vision.

Lilah drew to a stop midway down the stairs, making sure no one else was in the lobby as she continued her thoughts.

Her hotel suite here was smaller – much smaller – than her old apartment had been, and not for the first time, she missed all the little creature comforts she'd had just a month ago. 

_Far from the first time at that._

Although, when they'd gotten back from Pylea, Lilah had found even the shower in the bathroom of her room was a truly magnificent thing, after all that she'd had to go through in that hell dimension. 

Now that she was sure no one else was in the lobby, Lilah resumed her way down the stairs, reaching the bottom in short order. Apart from Fred – that twiggy Texan they'd brought back from Pylea with them – no one actually lived in the hotel, given Angel's absence. That, plus the fact that Fred hadn't yet left the room she'd been holed up in since Angel had departed, meant that Lilah effectively had the hotel to herself part of the time.

It gave the brunette woman a certain degree of freedom in the early morning, before even Wesley showed up. Of course, it meant that she had to be up by five in the morning to have even an hour free of the increasingly workaholic former Watcher, but as a lawyer she was quite used to waking up early – and going to sleep late. She was quite skilled at managing by on far less sleep than the normal person.

_Although, to be fair, so is everyone else here._ Fighting creatures of the night alongside an ensouled vampire may well be noble and good and all that heroic crap, but it played as much merry hell with a person's sleep schedule as being a lawyer with Wolfram and Hart did.

The coffee machine here was a simple, cheap thing – nothing like what she'd had at home. Hell, even the mail room at Wolfram and Hart had had a better machine. But in her college days she'd been stuck with a machine this crappy, and it wasn't like it was difficult to use. She started a pot and grabbed a clean mug more or less at random. While she waited for the caffeine to be done, Lilah sat down in a chair and opened her book. She'd had to pay Wesley slightly more in the way of rent than previously agreed, but he'd agreed to buy her a few books – which she also fronted the money for – to give her something to do in the unfortunately increased amount of spare time that she had these days.

Unfortunately, she hadn't given him much in the way of direction on what to buy beyond 'fiction' and 'not the kind of dry boring crap they make you read in lit classes'. The results had been somewhat mixed. She suspected Wesley had merely grabbed books off the shelf at random from a number of sections.

Though there had been one book she'd enjoyed well enough. _Storm Front_ , by a Jim Butcher. The lead character was your typical do-gooder hero (he was even a PI with supernatural powers, and didn't that sound familiar?) but the book as a whole was entertaining enough. More so than she'd expected. Even if she couldn't help snarking at Harry Dresden's...everything. From his attitude to his choice of sidekick, a talking skull of all things. 

Lilah doubted it had occurred to the author that his novel had the same name as a certain white supremacist website. 

_Of course, odds are he doesn't know it exists._ Lilah only knew because Wolfram and Hart had represented the website's managers in a few cases. A surprisingly high number of vampires were members of the website. All of them old vamps, from the days when minority rights didn't even exist as a concept. And some of them had been more than wealthy enough to pay the firm's fees.

At the thought of those people, Lilah gave a little shudder. There was evil, and then there was a level of base, cruel, petty ignorance that made even minor evils utterly disgusting. If nothing else because of the sloppy wastefulness of their world-view.

And besides, Lilah just didn't _get_ racism. If you were human, you were almost certain to be a mindless sheep or worthless scum, regardless of your skin color.

_Might come from all the demons I used to work with._ Though she'd never really gotten it, even before starting at Wolfram and Hart.

The coffee machine dinged lightly to indicate that pot was done, and Lilah put down the work of historical fiction she'd been reading and went to collect it, pouring herself a cup. She took a sip and once again screwed up her face at the taste. It wasn't _bad_ , just terribly...bland, compared to what she was used to. Nowhere near as good. Still, it was better than the batch they'd been finishing the last of off upon the return from Pylea.

That had been battery acid masquerading as coffee. Or maybe paint thinner. She wasn't sure. Either way, there was no way that _that_ stuff had been coffee in any sense of the word. This at least counted.

Lilah returned to drinking her coffee and pondered just what she should do next.

She'd had her plans, for her exit strategy out of Wolfram and Hart. Had them laid – albeit constantly updated – for years, always digging for files and dirt on her superiors, laying plans to have a weapon against the firm once she left, if she had to. That was where Cowan had come in. It had taken some doing to convince him to what she needed, but Lilah had always been good at convincing people to do what she wanted. Tricking him into believing that the information she'd be gathering would be used against others in the firm, and that she'd take Cowan with her when she won whatever interoffice fight she had planned had been easy.

_Unfortunately, Lindsey figured out I was behind it._ In retrospect, expecting him to not make the connection was perhaps a bit too much. If she'd given it a little bit more time between her escape and pulling the files, Lindsey might not have leaped immediately to the 'it was Lilah' conclusion.

Lilah hated admitting that she'd made a mistake, even to herself. But she had. She'd been so pissed off at being passed over for Lindsey – _freaking Lindsey McDonald!_ \- and with her composure shot from panic, she'd gone full bore on the plan without even a moment's delay.

_And now that son of a bitch has my mother._

She hadn't 'joined' Angel Investigations out of the goodness of her heart. And she couldn't give two shits about all the helpless and hopeless little people they saved. But, as sad as it sounded, this little collection of rag-tag White Hats was the greatest threat to Wolfram and Hart, here in Los Angeles. 

Oh, sure, there were about a half-dozen various groups in the city that made an active effort against the forces of darkness that preyed on people. Gunn's old gang was one of them, and Angel Investigations was another. Another gang of street toughs like Gunn's group, a small coven, a small alliance of half-demons that used the enhanced abilities of their heritages to do good and the latest, a little clique of college students with too much knowledge and not enough power (and thus were getting in way over their heads) rounded things out.

Of those six, only Angel Investigations, the coven and the half-demons even knew about Wolfram and Hart's role in the supernatural world. And neither the coven nor the half-demons were interested in fighting Wolfram and Hart head-on. They avoided the supernatural superpower with a strong sense of self-preservation.

_And a sense of self-preservation really is something that Angel's groupies definitely lack, no doubt about it._

This made them the perfect resource with which she could wage her one-woman war against Lindsey – fighting Wolfram and Hart was incidental to the main target; finding and rescuing her mother.

She'd thought about it, and concluded her mother was still in L.A. It made the most sense. Putting her in another dimension was too stupid for her longtime rival – sure she'd be out of reach, but then he'd also have no way to personally keep an eye on her, make sure she _stayed_ alive. And Lindsey would run into the same sort of problem if she was stashed too far from L.A. as well.

The odds were, given how unfortunately smart Lindsey was, that she'd be somewhere in L.A. and probably within a few hours' drive as well. But that still left a lot of territory to cover. Lindsey would be sure to either use a safe-house or location that she knew nothing about – a risky bet for him, but one that she knew was very possible. 

Lilah couldn't be sure exactly which of her various assets Lindsey now knew about – she knew he knew about some, and could guess he'd know about others. But there were some that she knew he didn't know about, and there was at least one more safe-house that he still didn't know about, even being the Vice President of Special Projects as he now was.

Like any smart employee at Wolfram and Hart, Lindsey would keep as much as possible of this operation – and any others he chose to run – in his own network within the firm's Byzantine structure. And she knew enough about that network to start rolling it up. And, with any luck, figure out more about where her mother was, and what he had guarding her.

_But, then again, if I work too hard against him..._ Lilah shook her head at that thought, finishing off the rest of the coffee in her mug. No. Even if she could manage to destroy Lindsey's entire network, there was little chance he'd do anything to her mother in retaliation. She still had more than enough to end his career and life. 

_Good old Cold War style Mutually Assured Destruction._ Because even if she released everything and got Lindsey killed and his body set to work in a Third World hell dimension, he'd almost certainly have the time for a retaliatory strike, and even if not, the rest of the firm would still have plenty of incentive to kill her, and she wouldn't have her insurance policy.

She couldn't be sure she was reading Lindsey's likely actions perfectly – he'd not survived as long as he had in the firm by being easy to read or predict. But he, like her, was a rational player who knew how to balance risk and reward against his own self-interest.

But where to start?”

As she pondered that, Lilah got up and poured herself a second mug of coffee from the pot and took herself, her mug, and the – rather mediocre, in this case – book to the round couch in the center of the lobby. A look at her watch virtually guaranteed that she had a good thirty more minutes before Wesley arrived. 

_So, Lilah. Where exactly do we go first? Who's accessible that would know what I want to know? Or even a bit more about what he's got going for him._

Well, she had thirty minutes in which to figure it out.

**Lobby, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
May 16th, 2001**

Lilah had just finished her second cup of coffee when Wesley walked into the hotel lobby, a legal pad and two thick books in hand. 

“Morning, Lilah.” Wesley offered politely as he headed into his office, setting the books down long enough to unlock the door. She didn't know why he did it – Cordelia and Gunn certainly didn't waste their time with pleasantries when it came to her, and she highly doubted it was because Wesley liked or trusted her any more than they did.

_It's got to be some English thing._ That was the only conclusion she could think of, anyway. 

“Morning.” Lilah offered back, getting up from the couch to stretch a moment. She thought she saw Wesley's eyes linger for the slightest of moments, but she wasn't sure. She still smirked regardless as Wesley walked into his office.

Lilah's gaze went back to the book, then back to the open door of Wesley's office. _Why bother with that when there's better entertainment available right now?_ Picking the book up, she folded down the corner of a page – knowing full well how much it would annoy Wesley if he saw her doing it, or that she'd done it – and set that down next to her empty coffee mug.

“So,” she asked him, standing in the doorway of the office, “why do you show up here so early, anyway? I mean, your Girl Friday isn't going to show up until at least eight, unless she's had a vision or something comes up, and Gunn won't be here until nine, unless there's a reason for him to be here earlier. So why the hell are you always here at six o'clock in the freaking morning?”

“I could ask you why it is that you're always up and wide awake by the time I'm here.” Wesley pointed out, not looking up from the papers and books layering the desk in front of him.

“That's a simple answer.” Lilah shrugged, “I get up as early as I do so I can have a bit of time to myself before everyone else gets here. It's not like Fred's going to come out of hibernation and inflict her company on me.”

She saw how Wesley frowned just a touch at the minor slight against the Texan nut-case. _God, he barely knows the woman and he's acting all smitten. Of course Wesley would pick a crazy girl to have a crush on..._

But he didn't make an issue of her words either. “I see.”

“So, again,” Lilah began, repeating her earlier question, “Why are you here so god-awful early? I mean, I don't like waking up at five in the morning, so I'd be all for you arriving later.”

Wesley looked up from the books and papers he'd been examining. “The City of Angels is, as it were, down an Angel. He is a better combatant than all the rest of us combined. His absence significantly reduces our ability to fight demons and vampires, and his superhuman senses were useful on non-combative cases as well.” He shrugged, “Therefore, greater effort needs to be made in order for Angel Investigations to remain on top of things here in Los Angeles. Thus, I arrive early.”

_Sheesh..._ “Such a martyr for the cause, Wes.”

“Getting by on minimal sleep was practically a class of its own at the Academy. It is hardly martyring myself.” Wesley looked back to the papers and started going through them, looking for a specific sheet. “Now, was there anything else, or did you interrupt me just to ask that question?”

“Well, hey, it's always fun to interrupt you,” Lilah started, but kept going before Wesley could say anything. “But as a matter of fact, yes there is something else. The data I've given you is incomplete, granted. Nothing you could take any sort of authorities – local, state or federal. But there's enough there that you can use to target some of their operations. Cut into Wolfram & Hart's network of contacts and safe-houses, take out allies and key clients. That sort of thing.”

“Aren't you worried that Lindsey and the Senior Partners will take such actions as good reason to use the gun they have to your head, as you put it?” Wesley raised an eyebrow, looking back at her. He gestured at the chair across the desk from him, clearing meaning for her to sit.

Lilah didn't oblige him as she answered his question. “Not hardly. Lindsey knows that I've given you guys at least some of the files I stole. And, since he's not dead yet, that all the really good stuff is hidden away with the half I haven't given you. The kind of things you'll be able to use will hurt the firm, but not enough that they'd be willing to risk all the shit that will rain down on them if everything else I have goes public.”

“And yet, simply killing you to ensure it all goes public sounds even more appealing an option.” Wesley muttered. Lilah resisted the urge to frown. She was almost certain that Wesley wouldn't do that – at least not as long as she proved otherwise useful and paid her rent, but...

She honestly couldn't be sure, not any longer. She'd seen that other, harder side to Wesley in Pylea. A much better side, in her view, than the one he usually showed, but also one eminently willing to kill her. _Which just makes tweaking him even more fun._ She admitted to herself.

Shaking his head, Wesley continued, “That aside, I assume you have a particular idea in mind, on where to start?”

“Uncanny.” Lilah offered with a smirk. “Yes. I do. I don't remember all the details off the top of my head, but I know which floppy disk they are on.” She crossed her arms in front of her and leaned her back against the door frame. “You took out the soul-drop factory, sure, but there's still a lot of that crap on the streets. The firm uses an intermediary to get the drug to the street dealers, and by now, the price would have gone through the roof. So I imagine our intermediary has a hell of a lot of the stuff just waiting to be sold to people who can put together the cash.” _Not to mention he'd have a lot of money. And that he's a second in command who works for Lindsey._ The latter she had no intention of ever sharing with Wesley or anyone else at AI. The former...well, she'd let them in on that if she had to. But a woman had to make sure she had the money to cover rent, right?

She'd taken as much money with her she could, but it would only last so long. And depending on how long she was stuck here, she'd want to rebuild her clothing and shoe stocks...well, in that case she'd need more in the way of money than she currently had. Even it came out of a drug dealer's wallet.

_Well, to quote Emperor Vespasian, 'Money does not stink'._ Lilah couldn't help but smile at that. More than one prosecuting attorney had asked how she could sleep at nights, getting paid to defend such scum. How she could accept their money.

She'd always trotted that line out in response. It had usually left them sitting there speechless, as if they couldn't accept she'd be that blasé about it.

_White Hats can never accept that sometimes people just don't care about their little black and white world-view._

“And you think we can take him out? Wouldn't he have minions of some sort? Guards?” Wesley asked, forcing Lilah to focus.

“Of course. Mostly demons, given that he is a demon, but maybe a human or two as well. I mean, I could be wrong, but you'll be able to find out one way or the other from the data about the guy and his base of operations on the floppy.” Lilah shrugged – then she saw the way Wesley raised an eyebrow, and she knew what he was going to ask next. _And I need an answer for it._

Just as she predicted, Wesley asked it. “And...why exactly do you suggest we start with this one? I've been meaning to make an effort to start working on the discs you did provide anyway, but you obviously have a motive in suggesting this particular target as the first one to go for.” Wesley shifted in his chair a little, giving him a better angle to look directly at her face. “So. Why?”

Lilah shrugged, no obvious tells showing as she lied as easily as she always did, “I like things to be completely finished. Taking out the factory but leaving the distributor intact is an incomplete job. It is neither neat nor tidy. I prefer things to be neat and tidy.”

Wesley looked at her carefully a moment, considering her words, then shrugged. “I'd imagine that part of that is actually true. Not sure which part.” He returned his attention to his books and papers. “Very well. Give me the information, and I'll look into the possibility. In the meantime, I do have other work to do.” He gestured irritably for her to leave his office. “Close the door on your way out, Lilah.”


	11. Knocking Over Dealers

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Angel the Series. I make no money off this, and as I am currently unemployed, suing me would serve no purpose.

Thanks to Starway Man, my beta-reader.

Exit Strategy

By Alkeni

Chapter 11: Knocking Over Dealers

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles  
May 16th, 2001**

“Lilah has brought my attention to another aspect of the Soul Drop trade that previously, I hadn't anticipated being a factor.” Wesley told Gunn and Cordelia.

Lilah was watching the three of them from upstairs, uninterested in this total rehash of what she already knew – but what she was interested in was the way that Angel's lackeys reacted to the idea she'd brought to their attention. Wesley seemed in favor of it, once he'd gotten a look at the info from the discs. It was a way to do good, hurt Wolfram and Hart and – most importantly, the way Lilah saw it – something that the white hats could most likely accomplish _without_ that brooding, narcissistic, undead putz.

“I thought we took out that factory already. What else is there?” Gunn asked, frowning, “Another factory?”

“Not in Los Angeles, no. Presumably, Wolfram and Hart has other manufacturing centers in other cities where that evil law firm is based, but Lilah had no information on those.” Wesley handed them both a picture – a demon, mostly human looking, save for the gill-like slits in the sides of his neck, the horns jutting from his chin and the slight yellowish-tinge to his face.

“This is Marvek Drosh.” Wesley told them perfunctorily. “Wolfram and Hart was using him as their primary distributor for the Soul Drop drug trade – he's been in the pusher business for a long time, apparently. The firm even launders his ill-gotten gains for him, for an additional cut of the profits. Anyway, with the factory shut down, the price of that damnably addictive drug has increased significantly, making his remaining supply worth quite a lot of money. Given their nature, I've come to the conclusion that sooner or later, Wolfram & Hart will likely try to start up a new factory. So I think that it's best we make sure they need to find a new distributor, when that times comes.”

Lilah knew that Wesley had made his own inquiries into the increased price of Soul Drops – including placing a call to Lorne. The Host didn't let crap like that anywhere near his club, just like with that drug called Orpheus, but he knew how the market worked – since they'd taken out that factory, the price of one dose of Soul Drops had increased by 150%. Well, that was the law of supply and demand for you.

“Can't say I'm against the idea.” Gunn commented, after thinking things over. “But thing is, English – is knocking over drug dealers really what we want to get into?”

“Besides,” Cordelia added, “We're here to help the hopeless. Not work on whatever Lilah tells us to.”

“Well, you both have a point. Nonetheless – eliminating the supply of a highly addictive and sickeningly immoral mystical drug, and making it more difficult for Wolfram and Hart to begin dealing in that drug again, seems to me an excellent way to help the hopeless.” Wesley countered, “Cordelia, I'm not suggesting we put aside our primary focus – addressing the issues the Powers inform us about via your visions, and helping clients that come to us with their problems – merely to take on Wolfram and Hart at every opportunity.” 

Lilah could hear what the British man wasn't saying – it was pretty much the elephant in the room, so to speak – and she suspected Cordelia and Gunn could hear it, too.

_That's what Angel did, and look where it got him._

Wesley kept on going, “But in the absence of either visions or clients, and with a great deal of information to work with, Gunn – we can do the most good by stymieing Wolfram and Hart this way, at this juncture. As for doing what Lilah wants us to do, I'm engaging in this course of action because it's a good idea. The fact that she brought it to my attention is more or less irrelevant.” 

Cordelia looked like she was going to debate the point further – but then thought better of it. Lilah wondered what was going through the seer's head – but she only wondered idly, lacking anything better to think about at the moment. The ex-lawyer listened as the Vision Girl asked, “Alright. Fine. So who or what's going to be there?”

“By all accounts, Mr. Drosh maintains eight Kurntov demons as guards. Low-intelligence and high-strength. They're a common enough kind of demon muscle for work like this. They're easy enough to kill with the standard slice and dice, however, and they work in teams of two. Inside the warehouse itself, our target will have a few human employees and a handful of demons of his species. They're not exceptionally strong or fast, but they _are_ surprisingly resilient when it comes to taking physical damage and surviving, so that's something to keep in mind.”

“Not wanting to state the obvious; but numbers are definitely gonna be against us. There's just three of us, and what, twelve of them? That's kind of nasty odds to go up against.” Gunn pointed out. “So what's the plan?”

“Actually, there will be four of us.” Wesley told the black man. “Lilah, I know you're eavesdropping up there. Come down here at once.” He went into his office, and Lilah stood there, wondering how to react – she didn't feel interested in obeying Wesley's orders, on general principles if nothing else. But like it or not, he was the one who effectively controlled her freedom of movement, unless she was willing to take risks she was not really in the mood for – like leave the Hyperion, and take her chances in L.A. all alone.

_And there's always the chance he might just turn around and shoot me._ Lilah didn't really like that thought, either, though she had to admit it made tweaking Pryce even more fun.

After only a moment, the brunette sighed and started walking, heading down the stairs, leaning against the railing when she got to the bottom. Cordelia sent her a brief glare, but Gunn just shrugged when he saw her. 

Wesley came back out of the office with a revolver in his hand, and another pistol – one that offered more than six shots, that is – in the other hand. He looked at Lilah. “You know how to use this?” He held up the revolver. 

“Naturally. I have a concealed carry permit and everything.” Lilah nodded. She hadn't brought her gun with her to the firm on the day she'd been fired, and since it was at her apartment, she'd not had a chance to get it before putting to flight.

“Good.” Wesley handed her the revolver. Lilah took a moment to get used to the balance, wondering why on earth the man would give her this weapon. She opened the Colt's chamber and spun it, confirming that Wes had indeed filled all the slots with ammunition.

“You're giving her a _gun_?” Cordelia's tone was halfway between disgust and confusion. 

“Well, Lilah's not that capable with a sword – and given that we're not going up against vampires, a crossbow isn't that effective an option.” Wesley explained reasonably, and Lilah smirked at the way he seemed to be purposefully missing Cordelia's point.

Cordelia transferred her glare from Lilah to Wesley, obviously grasping he was being deliberately obtuse. “Allow me to rephrase: You're giving _her_ a gun?” The shift in emphasis was obvious.

“She sang for Lorne, and he assures us she's completely on the level.” Wesley pointed out. “I won't lie and say I trust her, because I don't-”

“Good.” Lilah cut in. “Because I don't trust any of you. It's fun being me.” 

Wesley gave her a look, one eyebrow raised, his entire expression saying 'are you quite finished yet?' Lilah rolled her eyes, and Wesley continued, looking back to Cordelia. “An extra hand in a fight like this is not something I intend to ignore, and without some kind of weapon, she's simply not going to be that useful in the upcoming battle.” Wesley finished.

Cordelia took a breath, and again Lilah was curious exactly what was going through the other woman's head. She didn't think she had to worry much about Cordelia killing her, but she wouldn't put it past the seer to make an effort to hurt her badly, if the opportunity arose. 

Lilah was fairly certain Cordelia knew, as well as anyone else here, how useful having Lilah Morgan around could be – she wasn't an idiot, after all – but of the three human white-hats working for Angel Investigations – the Texan girl didn't count there – Cordelia had the most black and white view of the world. Wesley had proved beyond a doubt his own willingness to dip into greyness with his plan in Pylea, and Gunn...

Well, Lilah wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. Gunn didn't like her hanging anymore than Cordelia did, judging from some of his reactions, but he seemed more inclined to take Wesley's lead on tolerating and using her, so there was that.

_Not that either of them would go out of their way to save my life in a fight..._ Lilah shrugged. She wouldn't have expected them to, anyway.

“Fine.” Cordelia said after a long moment, “But if she kills us all with that thing, Wes? I totally reserve the right to kick your ass and say 'I told you so' in the afterlife.” Though she didn't deliver the words with much humor, there was a small note, and so Wesley smiled for a second at her words.

“So noted.” the head of the detective agency agreed. He looked back to Gunn, “As for my plan? Well, given that we have a fairly good idea of the layout of the warehouse and where the Kurntov demons will be, I think it's safe to say we have an inside advantage when it comes to getting through.”

**Outside Marvek Drosh's Warehouse  
May 16th, 2001**

Getting into position to take on the Kurntov demons had been more difficult than it would have been if Angel were here, to act as the supernatural muscle.

_But,_ Wesley reminded himself, _Angel's not here, and this plan is sound enough._

The demons kept a watch at the three entrances to the warehouse – the sewer, the main door and a rear door. All from the inside. Another two did circuits around the warehouse, dressed in large trenchcoats and concealing hats, making them look like obvious criminals; but not like inhuman monsters. Well, unless someone got too close, anyway.

The great advantage of using Kurntov demons, apart from the fact that they worked cheap, was the fact that they only needed to sleep once a year.

Granted, they slept like the dead for a full week during that time, but it made them perfect twenty-four hour guards for the rest of the year. Summoning them took some doing, though, and they were dim-witted enough to need almost constant oversight for orders more complicated than 'no one comes through this door'. 

And unfortunately for him, a man – well, demon – like Marvek Drosh couldn't give such blanket orders to the Kurntovs. He had a business to run.

_And once we're inside, they won't join in the fighting from the doors they're guarding. Not without explicit orders from Drosh._ That did make killing or otherwise incapacitating Drosh something of a priority.

Once they got inside.

Once they got inside, the guns could be used, but until then – well, they were rather loud, and using them could ruin the whole 'surprise attack' element of the plan.

Wesley had contemplated, more than once, getting a silencer for his sidearm for exactly these sorts of situations; but in the end, he had always decided against it. The United States may have had somewhat alarmingly liberal gun laws, and a culture that celebrated guns and owning them to a rather odd degree, but California was one of the states that made owning a sound suppressor for a gun illegal.

He wasn't inclined to break local gun laws at this particular juncture.

On the other hand, thanks to their advance knowledge of the building, they wouldn't need to go after the two demons on patrol around the building. Not if they timed it right.

_And, not if the code for the electronic lock on the secondary entrance is still accurate._ Wesley agreed with Lilah's assumption that the code wouldn't have been changed yet – over time, Wolfram and Hart passwords, numerical codes and mystical keys would change, and the information Lilah had on the disks would become useless. But at the moment, no one was sure just how much Lilah had. So they couldn't know what to change, and Marvek Drosh was low enough on the totem pole to be unlikely to have been given any sort of heads up or orders to change his codes.

_The firm hardly wants to air its mistake and vulnerability to those that would take advantage of that, after all._

Wesley nodded to Gunn, who had an axe in his hands, plus a crossbow over his back, just in case. The bolts for this mission were tipped with barbed heads made of steel, designed for foes that could simply be killed the normal way.

Lilah and Cordelia were right behind them, waiting in the alley for them to check the door – Cordelia wasn't very thrilled about that part, but she'd made no verbal protest about it.

Wesley checked his watch. They'd scouted carefully. Assuming the pair of Kurntovs didn't suddenly pick up the pace, they had three minutes to enter the code, open the door, and get inside.

Carefully, Wesley entered the six-digit code into the keypad – 571494 – and watched with some relief as the door's lock clicked open.

_Now, in theory, they won't automatically attack anyone who comes in through this door having entered the code..._

Wesley wasn't sure just how ready he was to trust that theory, though, so he lowered his sword and placed his free hand on the handle of his gun. 

And a few seconds later, all hell started to break loose...

**Marvek Drosh's Warehouse  
May 16th, 2001**

“Hello, Marcus.” 

Lilah pulled back the hammer of her six-shooter, another bullet falling into the chamber as she walked into Drosh's vault, the battle with the drug-dealer and the minions of his own race raging behind her. She wasn't surprised to see Marcus Lott, the human second-in-command to Marvek Drosh there, stuffing bundles of twenties and fifties and hundreds into a bag.

“L-Lilah Morgan.” Marcus stammered out after he turned and saw her – and saw the gun pointed at his face. They'd never met, but Lilah wasn't surprised that the man recognized her. Then he managed to stammer out a bit more: “I...I heard you got sacked.”

“I prefer to think of it more of a mutual parting of ways, after irreconcilable differences.” Lilah disagreed, “But yes. I don't work for the firm anymore. Which,” She gestured back out of the vault with her free hand, “would be why Angel Investigations is currently chopping up your boss and his minions into little pieces.”

“You-” Marcus had a gun at his belt, but everything Lilah could see about him 'screamed' coward. He didn't have the guts to go for it. He wasn't working in a particularly dangerous drug trade...and usually, he already had his gun out on other person first, rather than the other way around.

_Still, better be sure._

“Touch it,” Lilah interrupted, “and I'll kill you so fast, even the Senior Partners themselves will be surprised how quickly your soul comes into their possession.”

Marcus's hand move as far from the gun as it could. “You- You'll kill me anyway.”

Lilah shrugged. “Not necessarily. You tell me what I want to know, and I'll let you live. Hell, if you're really cooperative, I might even let you get away with all the money in that bag. Just what you've already got in the bag, though.” She only had two shots left in the revolver. But he didn't know that. And odds were good she wouldn't need both.

“What do you want to know?” Marcus managed to get out with a surprising amount of firmness in his voice.

“Well, that's the thing. See, I know you really work for Lindsey. And, Lindsey's got something I want. Now, I don't think you know anything about where it is, but I think you know enough to help me figure out just where it's been hidden. First step, anyway. Ah, ah, ah.” Lilah moved the gun back and forth a bit, tightening my finger menacingly. 

Marcus stopped moving – he'd been fidgeting, his eyes on the other door of the vault, towards the sewer exit...

“So.” Lilah smirked, “I figure, you're not important enough to report to Lindsey directly. Am I right? Just nod.” Marcus closed his mouth and nodded. “Thought so. Then who is it you report to?”

“Linda- Linda Reisan.” Marcus replied. 

_Ah, yes. That little overachieving paralegal that started work in Special Projects, year and a half ago._ Lilah had tried to recruit her after Lee Mercer had been killed– she and Lindsey had fought over the slices of his corpse, as it were – but Lindsey had managed to win her loyalty. Damn shame, in some ways. “Interesting. And you wouldn't happen to know anything else interesting about Lindsey, would you? Safe houses, account numbers, that sort of thing.”

Lilah wasn't surprised when Marcus shook his head, “No. He always had Resian contact me using blind drops.” 

_Naturally. Pretty much how you have to handle spineless trash like this little fucker._

“Well, then, Marcus...we have a problem. I told you I'd let you go if you told me what I wanted to know. But-” Lilah's voice was interrupted by the sound of her own gun – Marcus must have realized where she was going with this, because she'd seen his hand moving towards his own pistol – he'd even managed to get it half out of his belt when her bullet passed right through his chest. He staggered and fell. 

Just to be sure, Lilah shot him again.

Never one to leave a resource untapped, Lilah reached into her own pocket and took out a silk monogrammed handkerchief, her initials in one corner. Leaning down, she carefully took the gun out of the dead man's belt and pulled it out.

_Probably stolen or attached to at least one crime or two. May as well attach it to another before getting rid of it._ She kept the handle and trigger covered by the handkerchief as she stepped out of the vault. The three white hats had done well for themselves in the fighting. Drosh plus three of his own kind and one human had been narrowed down to two dead demons, and the human moaning on the ground with a bullet in his kneecap. 

Lilah aimed carefully, then – damn it. There really wasn't a clear shot this far away. 

_I wish I didn't need to keep these people alive for now. Would make things so much easier._ Stepping towards the fray, Lilah drew close enough to the demon Gunn was fighting – the one that wasn't Drosh. “Gunn, get down!” She shouted, keeping her voice loud enough to be heard. Then as soon as the black man had obeyed orders, she opened fire. 

Lilah watched the demon turn and take the bullet in his side, saw Gunn step away – though as it turned out, the bullet stayed in the demon's bulky frame. Charles took advantage of his falling foe and drove his axe into the demon's chest. 

And, oddly enough, Drosh fell to the ground right after, a bolt from Cordelia's crossbow in his stomach. Of course, he wasn't dead yet.

“Anyone mind me killing him, before his moaning in pain starts bugging the crap out of me?” Lilah asked them all.

Cordelia just stared at her, “Just how do you get off on being such a vicious bitch, Lilah?”

“Probably the same way you did in High School, princess. Don't think I haven't heard the stories.” Lilah shot back. Without further ado, she leveled Marcus' gun at Drosh and fired directly into his face. She then let the weapon drop, putting the handkerchief back into her pocket – after folding it up.

“Well,” Wesley said after a moment, then he shook his head, “I suppose we're pretty much done here.”

“Not quite. There's all those Soul Drops in the vault.” Lilah pointed back over her shoulder. “Not to mention all the money just laying around.”

“Money?” Cordelia immediately perked up at the sound of that, then, her expression fell. “Drug dealer money.” She frowned in disgust, “We can't just take that!”

“Why not?” Lilah quirked an eyebrow. “Think about it, little girl. It's just going to sit there until some other low-life shows up and takes it, or else Wolfram and Hart will eventually reclaim it once they come to clean up the mess around here. Unless you're proposing we simply burn it, well... _Pecunia non olet_.”

“You're going to have to run that by me in English, Lilah.” Gunn cut in, pulling his axe out of the dead demon. 

“It's Latin. Translated, the words mean 'money does not stink'. Not surprising you'd be fond of it, Lilah, given your previous employers.” Wesley put his own gun back into its holster and made his way towards the vault. 

Smirking, Lilah followed behind Gunn and Cordelia. She smirked again at the faint look of 'oooh, money!' on Cordelia's face, before the seer quashed it.

Wesley looked from the dead Marcus Lott back to Lilah. She shrugged innocently, “What? He was going for his gun, and I saw him do it. You may not be all in favor of killing humans, but I'm not going to risk my life letting a scumbag like that get a free shot at me!”

Wesley shrugged and looked away after meeting her eyes a moment, and while Cordelia and Gunn both looked unhappy...well...

They weren't exactly mourning the loss of a dead drug dealer, either. 

“This is quite a lot of money,” Wesley murmured. “It would be impractical to try and take it all with us, unfortunately. Not to mention somewhat suspicious to the authorities, if we all suddenly became several tens of thousands dollars richer. Still,” Wesley took a half dozen bundles of fifties and gave them to Gunn, then did the same for Cordelia. Despite her earlier protest, the Seer didn't complain. Once Wesley had taken the same amount for himself, he stepped aside. 

“You're going to simply leave the rest of it?” Lilah asked, raising her left eyebrow.

“I've taken as much as I can stomach.” was the Englishman's curt, clipped reply.

Lilah could see the moral tight-rope he was putting himself on. _Makes me glad I' haven't got a conscience._ The Morgan woman didn't limit herelf to only a half-dozen bundles, but practicality kept her to a little less than a hundred fifty thousand dollars, all told. “Alright. So what do we do with the rest, then?”

“Burning it and the entire drug supply sounds like a plan to me.” Wesley suggested. “We _are_ talking about something made from the souls of unborn and newborn babies, after all.” 

“All that?” Cordelia gestured to the pile of vials filled with glowing white liquid within. “Alright, that's something I'm _all_ for.”


End file.
